Rob Ayling writes:
"Thom the World poet is an old mate of mine from way back in my history. Even pre-dating Voiceprint, when I was running "Otter Songs" and Tom's poetry tapes and guest appearances with Daevid Allen, Gilli Smyth Mother Gong are well known and highly regarded. It just felt right to include a daily poem from Thom on our Gonzo blog and when I approached him to do so, he replied with in seconds!!! Thom is a great talent and just wants to spread poetry, light and positive energy across the globe. If we at Gonzo can help him do that - why not? why not indeed!!" (The wondrous poetpic is by Jack McCabe, who I hope forgives me for scribbling all over it with Photoshop)
LOVE IN A TIME OF MARQUEZ
Butterflies
emerging from your heart. Mud village scraping itself up out of dust and
swamp
On a train with
windows to future and past. Children playing with small
animals
Dirt roads to plantations pre-cars. Before the sound of aircraft-markets!
Flowers of languages in her hair. Smiles like waves bursting morning's shores.
Dewdrop Republics, disappearing before dawn. Mirror faces, sunlight and stars.
Colors painting artists in still life moving images. Taste of papaya. Steamboats on rivers.
Here-every body is brown. Babel of dialects like bees through warmed air.
A tap dripping, forming a small pool, where children come to look-to see how deep.
A walking track that winds mountains into wool blankets to keep cold nights away.
Now she is reading tropical birds-their plumage, trees in which you can hear but not see
He is painting books in which you see your own life in miniature. Take this one!. Hold it close!
Threaded lives in a tapestry on a wall. Murals every where! Look! That is your signature.
Everywhere-movement and sound. Every night-wild sweated animal dreams
You awaken with your family watching as you rise, miraculously, above their heads
Another visitation? or a clarity that comes when you drink him in?
Dirt roads to plantations pre-cars. Before the sound of aircraft-markets!
Flowers of languages in her hair. Smiles like waves bursting morning's shores.
Dewdrop Republics, disappearing before dawn. Mirror faces, sunlight and stars.
Colors painting artists in still life moving images. Taste of papaya. Steamboats on rivers.
Here-every body is brown. Babel of dialects like bees through warmed air.
A tap dripping, forming a small pool, where children come to look-to see how deep.
A walking track that winds mountains into wool blankets to keep cold nights away.
Now she is reading tropical birds-their plumage, trees in which you can hear but not see
He is painting books in which you see your own life in miniature. Take this one!. Hold it close!
Threaded lives in a tapestry on a wall. Murals every where! Look! That is your signature.
Everywhere-movement and sound. Every night-wild sweated animal dreams
You awaken with your family watching as you rise, miraculously, above their heads
Another visitation? or a clarity that comes when you drink him in?
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