Friday, October 25, 2013

All The Same

All The Same

I forget the kindness of the man,
like the scar trailing down my back. 
Still, I find the face I want for him,
dipped in tar, desires of black.

I conjure my inner amorist,
roused by a tender gaze.
His blood is cold and barren,
mine, his, all the same.

I recall the strangers who’ve met me,
residing in the nights undefined.
I am caught in the shadow of others,
the dark bell chime, toll a lifeline.

I mute my inner companion,
sleepy; he never came.
His flesh is cool and clammy,
mine, his, all the same.

I conjure my inner amorist,
roused by a tender gaze.
The bell toll, cold and barren,
a poor reminder of my fate.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Desperado

Desperado

This is the season to feel full.

The sky falls at once upon a time;
where paths unfurl like pieces of twine.
I follow the crumbs along the ground,
a road where twine has never unwound.

Dirty lust poured out of my mouth.
I was primal, I was vacant inside.
And he was planted in bad judgment!
He sprouted, spoiled, my guilt was wide.

I’m a victim of desire’s tether,
a criminal, some desperado.
In my vision, that black fire weather,
those animals, sad desperadoes.

Paki play play again?
Paki play no!
Paki say say again?
Paki say no!

When I see it outside,
the tall mountain overlooking,
all my luck and my troubles
fog the view of everything.

But she had a nice song, darling!
Wasn’t she the mother to our James?
And wasn’t it just like that, darling,
how she melted into flesh and names?

Mummy play play again?
Mummy play no!
Mummy stay stay again? 
Mummy stay no!

Monday, October 7, 2013

Poetry from 2013


07/10/13

Here are five poems that I wrote from January – June 2013. The themes include politics, love, intimacy, denial, growing up and relationships.


Bait

The east and west debate.

The plight caused by Mother
will see you used as bait,
from one to the other.

To get out of this state,
to get out of this cell,
the fires burden your fate,
burning brighter than Hell.

The east and west, sedate.

Don’t forget your brother!
You are bait for the state,
by the faults of Mother.

To get you out this late,
to break out of this shell,
each sight and sound of hate,
burn them brighter than Hell.


Greece

I see the child in you
We were baking in the sun
Hot stone and a deity
One gaze of the star

You wrapped over me
As the shadows were growing
On that freezing night
You carved marks in my belly

Nimble as monkeys
I wove you new skin
Could you throw me an arrow
I, of the unknown


Transience looms heavy
We, smoothened by the rough
Scoop up the honeycomb
Think muscles and bones

Could you hold all the pebbles
Extracting from blood
I return to sunlight
But you must stay young


Refractory

Deep in the refractory,
you were thick as a forest
and wet as the dew
that collects on the tip
of the few who lie gentle.

So, gentle are the few
made wetter by the dew
from the same mouth fueling fires.
Yet, sodden is the skin
but deeper lies the sin
drawn from the well of desires.

Deep in the refractory,
grew the fields and the meadows
and green was the blood
that collects on the tip
of the mud caking on my grin.

Those glances spinning gold
though our lives are growing old,
recall that same comfort at midnight.
You were open as the petals,
flower stretch around the metal
that fence, those barbs, that might.


Self-Cognition

The simple cares of a woman
with love deep as the bones.
It’s something to remember
as she slips you off her toes.
You wish for the thick sleep,
though you will never return
to that vacuum whence you came
with the mumbling hums inside.

You were baking in the oven
long, long before you knew
all that space between the bosoms
and those sour teats you’d reject.

You woke up at midnight,
with hot piss on your sheets
and the quiet of the house.
Not one woman on your mind.

As your time here slips away,
you wasted precious seconds.
Every time you dream, alone,
never a woman on your mind.

Sadly, you’ll always remember swimming in the lake,
such rich, deep darkness lurking in the waters.

Sadly, you’ll always remember the stains of the knuckles
and the teeth from the mouth that should have swallowed.


Son

I carry my son against me
Clutched, close, bosom
I feel his heart beating
Loved, life, throbbing

I’ve kept some time for him
Allocated hours of the day
I’ve kept some time for him
I love the hours of the day

Keep an eye on
Leave it open
Keep an eye on

My son, I carry against me
Bosom, clutched, close
His heart, I feel beating
Throbbing, life, loved

I’ve kept some time for him
Allocated hours of the day
I’ve kept some time for him
All of the hours of the day

Keep an eye on
Leave it open
Keep an eye on




Somerfield


07/10/13

Here are two poems that I wrote in May 2013. They explore some of my experiences as a child at my (old) family home over the course of my life. The poems are very much connected, tangled by the vines and roots of the back garden. A part of me is still tangled there too, caught in my childhood and refusing to accept the present. The inevitability of change is sometimes too overwhelming.


Q&A

Please excuse me as I mourn
the trees felled by my mother.
Meanwhile the grass is torn
by the absence of my brother.

My family is a flower garden
whose existence is long forgotten.
I’m a glass bottle with a cork in,
that set sail across the ocean.

My family is a flower garden,
though the beds are bare and barren.
All those who have remained there
wilted in lonely pairings.

Please excuse me as I mourn them,
my overturned, spoiled blossoms.
The very seed of my forebears
dried up, died over the years.

I remember ma on the mountain,
a quick quake exhumed the earth.
All the layers caught underneath her;
were black dirt spoiling the turf.

The chain’s choking, chain-smoking
in the land of the third eye.
The just joking, just toking
in the land of the dead and dry.

Some bridges will lead you over
to where trees and flowers grow tall.
Since the present’s held over a candle
leave the memory on the wall.

Since the future’s an elm’s shadow
leave the old candle in the hall.
Since the future’s an elm’s shadow,
you’ll be the best of them all.

Well, the beans are scattered everywhere,
sprouting the stalk of an eerie dream.
It was I, baptized by nature,
that somehow slipped out in between.

Please excuse me as I mourn
the trees felled by my mother.
Meanwhile my heart is torn
by the absence of my brother.

Will I walk the length of the bridge,
or will I stand where my feet burn?
Will I hold my book to a candle,
or will the pages be willed to turn?


Cold

When the vines arched over us,
and the plums stained our toes,
I heard the swelling inside you
as we lay in the earth.

You were a mother that day,
though all the children had strayed.
But now whenever I lay,
I hear a cold, grey voice say:

“Two, but never three,”
my grandmother to me.
“Two,” though I’d’ve three.
My grandmother let me.

All your hunger pains grew,
into a tumour or two.
I heard the empty house cry,
and saw the fish pond turn dry.

The very source of your love,
was where you placed me above.
Warmest womb of them all,
I hear a cold, grey voice call:

“Two, but never three,”
my grandmother to me.
“Two,” though I’d’ve three;
my grandmother let me.

The first shock like a quake;
still we tremor and shake.
Sometimes a loss can’t be just,
but in that grey voice I trust:

“Two, but never three,”
my grandmother to me.
“Two,” though I’d’ve three;
my grandmother let me.

“Two, but never three,”
alternate memory.
“Two,” though I’d’ve three;
did my grandmother see?

Friday, October 4, 2013

Poetry from 2012 (Part 2)


04/10/13

Here are eleven poems I wrote from July – December 2012. The themes here address negative relationships, failed relationships, failed dating, denial, emotional fantasies, politics, symbolic death, war, nostalgia and wishful thinking.


Anjuline

Was born in ‘73
No divine plan for thee
Never had a fighting chance
All that’s left will never last

Rose was the colour inside
That black, yet, blue thy eyes
Thou opened a book one day
Could not turn the page

Two thousand miles away
Walking upon the coast
Two thousand miles away
Life open like a road

No hope for thy plight
Life living, life of white
Hearing nothing unfold
The closing beyond the road

Two thousand miles away
Walking upon the coast
Two thousand miles away
Life open like a road


Can’t Come Here

“That queer boy can’t come here!”
The devil within him will try to break you in
The sheer sin on his skin is more than enough
He’ll drench you and drown you at once
“That queer boy can’t come here!”

The institution will help him
The institution will help him

That queer boy of rose street
A life without goodness, without pureness
The fire, he boils in the pits of our gut
We will, we must burn him at once
That queer boy of rose street

Pass him the labour of love

Let them burn in the fire
Let them burn in the fire
Let them burn in the fire
Let us burn him at once


Cream Dream

Ocean cream
Licking my ankles
Shallow wading on a Friday night
Wake the next morn
Floating

Motion dream
Licking my elbows
Wallow in the dusk’s dead light
Shake the snow globe
Floating

It pulls me deeper
Prodding with its bill
The nostrils opening
The heaven, the light


Did You Hear?

I drew a line in the sand.
Did you hear about England?
There’s the rain and the winter
of the wars deep in my memory.


I closed my eyes tonight.
Did you hear about America?
It’s a revolution!
He’s as white as he is black.

Humankind from a distance;
homicidal injustice at best.
But the race must be won!
How do I sleep on that?

I turned off the radio,
though I heard of Libya.
So, now I’m out of range.
I’ve no feelings at this stage.

Turned off the television.
My time is gaining on me.
If there are Gods above,
leave me be in the next life.


Dinner

When she came up for dinner,
we had words, and our tongues
were curling, twirling, swirling
up and down, all around.

In that light, she was thinner,
and lines ran deep in her face.
Bones were cracking, clacking, lacking
that old flame of our day.

With a broken wrist, I shook her away.
With a lively twist, she ran, ran away.
With a bitter wit, I swore her away.
With a mouthful, she spat me away.

Into the open air, I reflect.
Recall of time, I introspect.
These memories wear thin as her figure.
These memories of mine do not trigger...anything.

When she came up for dinner,
her eyes were sad as a sinner’s.
In that light, she was thinner.
Ten years, not one winner.
I’ve no care, no change to spare.
This new year’s without you, dear.

This new year, this new pair,
these old flairs, these old fears,
I’ve no care, no change to spare.
Not one tear, no weight to bear.


Lovelornless

When the wind comes
Let it dry up the love
Only once could I give you
Only once, my love

Now that it’s all done
Lover, let it be
This life is forgiving
This world is enough

In the river, we drift astray
All the currents pull me away
When I untie the rope between us
You sink; my past, my anchor

Though I break the surface
The fresh air reminds me
The sun will dry up the world
As you dried up mine

You will never surface
My love won’t see daylight
The sun will dry up the world
As you dried up mine

In the river, we drift astray
All the currents pull me away
When I untie the rope between us
You sink, my past, my anchor

My veins untangle from you
The blood can flow again
One day the riverbed
Will swallow you up

One day the riverbed
Will swallow you up


Lovely Bird

One morning with my lovely bird,
in her mouth I placed a stone.
I said, “swallow, swallow, swallow!”
‘Twas the burden of her tongue.

When lovely bird was not looking,
my hand pierced her hollow nest.
I made ribbons of her feathers
‘til her babies couldn’t hatch.

Below the canopy, she lay,
with no sweet songs left to sing.
Couldn’t spread her precious plumes,
her plight of flight was my delight.

Disappeared in the greenery,
the bird never did return.
With no clutch, no flock, no flight,
I said, “swallow, swallow, swallow!”

With no love, no life, no luck,
she did swallow, swallow, swallow.
With no life, no life, no life,
I said, “swallow, swallow, swallow!”

Thirty years and five months later,
there, lying on my doorstep,
head on the left, plumes to the right,
my lovely bird was back again.


Maria

Please, Maria.
Your Prince, he beckons you back.
Might you travel to his land
and love him in the night?

Your Prince; untie his hair and
unfurl your garment all the way,
then spread yourself like open light.

Let him love you.
Allow Him this fate.
Our dear Maria.

This old battle continues
as sky and wind do not break
the silence between Prince and you.

By the parchment of the King,
unfurl your skin and blood and
untie his hair...undo, undo.


North Carolina

In North Carolina
I met your eyes
That fur on the skin
Growing on us again

The sky’s rotation
Is the same everywhere
I open my eyes
While yours are in rest

Is it the same world?
Is love the same word?

In North Carolina
I found your eyes
That fur on the skin
Stuck to me, you grin

The sky’s rotation
Is the same everywhere
I open my eyes
I open my eyes

Is it the same world?
Is love the same word?
Is love the same?


On The Hour

“We remember the times
now far far far away.
Our memories
from long long long ago.”

I want some smoke in the living room
where the paintings are all stained.
It’s this necessary aging
we all must undergo.

On the hour he will enter.

I want Whiskey on a Wednesday,
some LSD on the hour.
It’s this necessary filling;
the gaps we must forget.

I’ll remove his glasses and mine.

I want to bite on a cigar
whereon lips have not remained.
It’s this necessary sadness
we will all remember.

All will lay atop my nose.

I want music in the kitchen,
and a lover to dance with me.
Allow the smoke to blind me,
let the floorboards give way.

I will stare in wonder.

I want friction from a beard,
to be tickled by the lip.
It’s this necessary routine
I adopted from lost time.

All of me on the hour.


Voyage

The life I had, the man I was...
I voyage through the time I’ve lost.
One black moon in the open sky;
no more light in this world of mine.

Those years ago, beneath the sun
our brother’s loved and lived as one.
The land was blessed and all was pure.
I search this realm, soon search no more.

The air twisted, twisted around me.
I was surrounded by His army.
Although my past did keep me newer,
I heard He was like the F├╝hrer.

The life I had, the man I was...
my world avenged at little cost.
The man I am, and by my knife,
will draw His mercy, draw from His life.