Shan Jahan.

Shan Jahan

Here sits the son of Shan Jahan,
fingers wing ling, hands fluttering,
the shadows of a green spiked wonder
clapping in the sunshine
Three benches squat and talk
on the square board
beside the crazy paving wall
all coble and grey stone
lights in eyes
appear at the garden
the clunk of the rail
spells out
luxury cruise
luxury cruise
over shoulder
the bad luck one
looking at the moon
an old tale
relayed by jim
in the adventures of tom sawyer
whilst trying to work out is
the grass greener on both sides of the shadow
or is the shadow grass
greenest of them all


Stones of every colour
line the walls
these halls
of prayer
pilgriming to Mecca
ancients call
the crystal
the crystal shard
buried
beneath this soil
bow down
touch the ground
with the beads
of your forehead
the clouds on the floor
want
like paint thrown in
all the shades
dust covered
street parade
a riot of joy
of colour
sweepers make the sweetest sound
as they wipe the dust
from of the floor
wondering
hey are you here
right now
are you genuine or
are you an imitation
of us all
do you believe
or do you walk
along the borders
of discovery
not even daring
to seek
following the stars
to war
or are you
strange being
at peace
like a shell
sitting quietly
waiting
for the call


The windows are multicolured
diamonds
heres a ladder up to
the green roofed orb
in the blue sky
a plane paints
white train tracks
that smile at the people
who are overboard
white rockets tipped with
a golden spear
another ladder
like a buddha
leads all the way to the top
cool breeze, fanning the leafs
into shutter
clapping palm trees


The softest hard chair in all the world
sits outside
the portals castle doors
the upside down branches
ripple in the circle pool
one eye washing
in the middle
the pupil rises
a lotus flower
with a lotus lip on top
underneath her skirt shadows
like a black diamond, opposite
is the empty seat
cross hatched
emerald, designed by the master,
appolo, through the open sun doors
painted green, past the two green seats
and the murken branches dancing in the circle
over the grey cloud tiles up the marble stairs,
beneath a crescent moon and through a pointy archway
a spear headed green door
outside rings of gold relax like omens
a green bench under one of a pair of lanterns
next to the witch
are two brown shoes without laces
pointing forwards away from the door
is their owner invisible
will they move
are they waiting
for the call
what if i was to take them
or swap them with my own pair
leave a present inside
for the owners feet to explore
whos are these shoes
i wonder
do shoes ever get to go through
to the other side
beyond the green closed door
what colour is the shadow grass
i decide
to swap
a shoe for a shoe
so one of a pair
of shoes waiting
becomes one of mine