Tuesday, January 31
Monday, January 30
Lies
Lie to me if you have to. Lie like you've never had to lie before.
Give me a snatch of sky I can call mine. A piece of moondust I can stash away in a jewel box, locked safely, so no one can take it away. So I can bury it without ever needing to open it.
And while you smile indulgently,amused at a world which still surpises,I read your mind and gaze stoicly at the grinning mask on the wall - finely chiselled ugliness.
Exactly what I need.
Give me a snatch of sky I can call mine. A piece of moondust I can stash away in a jewel box, locked safely, so no one can take it away. So I can bury it without ever needing to open it.
And while you smile indulgently,amused at a world which still surpises,I read your mind and gaze stoicly at the grinning mask on the wall - finely chiselled ugliness.
Exactly what I need.
Wake up
They're all stronger than you ever were. Didn't you know that? You poor sod, lying to yourself the whole time.
All those people with one hand or half a leg or a mute mouth and unseeing eyes.
All those people with one hand or half a leg or a mute mouth and unseeing eyes.
Cheers Darling
"And so it is,just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me, most of the time..." (Damien Rice)
Listen to the music lilting lyrically through numb veins.
Now whispering softly, beating a rhythm to the waves in your drunken brain cells. Now pounding the core of some other being caged inside of you.Watch your life go up in wondrous smoky curls, dancing their way through the guitar strains.
And everything is as it was. And nothing is as it needs to be.
Optical illusion? Delicately disbalanced senses?
Deliberately obscured reason?
Why do skyscrapers stand unblinking day after day, smirking in your face? Why do the weary boats on the pale blue harbour go back and forth, back and forth,like they never knew another life?
They've learnt to live.
Have you? Have I? Have they? Hope so. Hope to god we all have.
So we can all look at the sky and say we never saw it before and isn't it stunningly beautiful in its newness, not knowing its been this way for a million years.
Like an old geezer turned into a princess with a magic spell it can never recover.
Just for a day, would you say, we could lose the power of thought and just BE.
No intrusions, no black dreams, no lies, no words, no cries. No analysis, no hocus pocus, not even a lovesong, or the smell of familiar cooking.
Just that smooth invisible plane of consciousness, undeterred, unfazed, anonymous.
Life goes easy on me, most of the time..." (Damien Rice)
Listen to the music lilting lyrically through numb veins.
Now whispering softly, beating a rhythm to the waves in your drunken brain cells. Now pounding the core of some other being caged inside of you.Watch your life go up in wondrous smoky curls, dancing their way through the guitar strains.
And everything is as it was. And nothing is as it needs to be.
Optical illusion? Delicately disbalanced senses?
Deliberately obscured reason?
Why do skyscrapers stand unblinking day after day, smirking in your face? Why do the weary boats on the pale blue harbour go back and forth, back and forth,like they never knew another life?
They've learnt to live.
Have you? Have I? Have they? Hope so. Hope to god we all have.
So we can all look at the sky and say we never saw it before and isn't it stunningly beautiful in its newness, not knowing its been this way for a million years.
Like an old geezer turned into a princess with a magic spell it can never recover.
Just for a day, would you say, we could lose the power of thought and just BE.
No intrusions, no black dreams, no lies, no words, no cries. No analysis, no hocus pocus, not even a lovesong, or the smell of familiar cooking.
Just that smooth invisible plane of consciousness, undeterred, unfazed, anonymous.
Sunday, January 29
Redrum
"I can remember when I was a little boy. My grandmother and I could hold conversations entirely without ever opening our mouths. She called it "shining." And for a long time, I thought it was just the two of us that had the shine to us. Just like you probably thought you was the only one". (The Shining, 1980)
It speaks to me.
All in red.
Lisping slowly,
Painting pictures
Trickling gently,
Halting once
Choking mildly.
I prick the silence
Coaxing, conversing,
Shatter the reserve
Slash the preserve.
Watch it flow
A feverish glow
Frantic, furious
Bursting forth
With secrets of
a lifetime.
Keep talking
Keep going
Keep stealing
Keep healing
Yes,it spoke to me
Liquid fire,
Long after
I could hear no more.
And kept shining
Through that one
Stained razor
Inert on the floor.
It speaks to me.
All in red.
Lisping slowly,
Painting pictures
Trickling gently,
Halting once
Choking mildly.
I prick the silence
Coaxing, conversing,
Shatter the reserve
Slash the preserve.
Watch it flow
A feverish glow
Frantic, furious
Bursting forth
With secrets of
a lifetime.
Keep talking
Keep going
Keep stealing
Keep healing
Yes,it spoke to me
Liquid fire,
Long after
I could hear no more.
And kept shining
Through that one
Stained razor
Inert on the floor.
Feeling groovy
Watch the caterpillar crawl down the jagged edge of a soft inviting leaf. Exploring in happy oblivion, the vagaries of an unknown world.Hopping from green to green, chuckling in glee, not knowing it can never get enough. Not knowing how it grabs you, intoxicates you and enslaves you to the innocent outdoors.
Perhaps it should have stayed back, hibernating numbly with its peers, in a cosy hole they all thought was home.Foolish being. So what if you didn't go to Harvard Law School, even the newborn baby next door knows a hard mattress from the soft, no matter the beguiling bedspread.
Still it rolls on, laughing shamelessly, rocking ecstatically on the now prickly, purple purple grass.
Perhaps it should have stayed back, hibernating numbly with its peers, in a cosy hole they all thought was home.Foolish being. So what if you didn't go to Harvard Law School, even the newborn baby next door knows a hard mattress from the soft, no matter the beguiling bedspread.
Still it rolls on, laughing shamelessly, rocking ecstatically on the now prickly, purple purple grass.
Stop!
Whoever said it was easy? No matter how smart you are.
No matter how many times before. The mind hurts more than the heart.
Did you know that? Of course not.
We're all old school. Safe in our knowledge of the mind being an emotionless reservoir of the rational,that can be reasoned away to perfection,every detail as it should be.
As it must be.
Let the heart stew,not your concern. Let the flesh revolt in contempt,let the years bring fresh layers of memory to stifle the old. Let new laughter drown the old. Let old habits drown the new.
Let mindless diversion replace that once cherished feeling of being alive - truly, completely, selflessly, like you always wanted, and believe in no more.
Or can you stand no more?
'Humankind can't bear too much reality' can they?
Depends on your pain threshold.
Depends on all those gym sessions where you built up enough muscle to break those chains one day.
Blame it on bad equipment. Blame it on the gods, blame it on the courage you never had, blame it on an unfair world which told you what to do.
Its quite simple really, just be you.
No matter how many times before. The mind hurts more than the heart.
Did you know that? Of course not.
We're all old school. Safe in our knowledge of the mind being an emotionless reservoir of the rational,that can be reasoned away to perfection,every detail as it should be.
As it must be.
Let the heart stew,not your concern. Let the flesh revolt in contempt,let the years bring fresh layers of memory to stifle the old. Let new laughter drown the old. Let old habits drown the new.
Let mindless diversion replace that once cherished feeling of being alive - truly, completely, selflessly, like you always wanted, and believe in no more.
Or can you stand no more?
'Humankind can't bear too much reality' can they?
Depends on your pain threshold.
Depends on all those gym sessions where you built up enough muscle to break those chains one day.
Blame it on bad equipment. Blame it on the gods, blame it on the courage you never had, blame it on an unfair world which told you what to do.
Its quite simple really, just be you.
Freedom
Look behind you. What do you see?
Smiling faces bidding goodbye?
Fallen colleagues cursing your guts?
Lost lovers waiting to pounce?
Trusted friends looking the other way?
Forgotten family craving you back?
Look ahead of you. What do you see?
Your children chiding you?
Your partner patronising you?
Your work withering you?
Your dreams deriding you?
Wouldn't you rather have
Worlds wanting you
The sky beckoning you
Strangers seducing you
And music making love to you?
So clean up your mess baby, clean it up good.
They're waiting for you out there.
Smiling faces bidding goodbye?
Fallen colleagues cursing your guts?
Lost lovers waiting to pounce?
Trusted friends looking the other way?
Forgotten family craving you back?
Look ahead of you. What do you see?
Your children chiding you?
Your partner patronising you?
Your work withering you?
Your dreams deriding you?
Wouldn't you rather have
Worlds wanting you
The sky beckoning you
Strangers seducing you
And music making love to you?
So clean up your mess baby, clean it up good.
They're waiting for you out there.
Sunk
Why don't they outlaw alcohol and kill us all right now?
The teetotallers would be smirking a minute before we wipe them all out.
The teetotallers would be smirking a minute before we wipe them all out.
Damn
Waiting for that era of virtual smoking which will make sixteen hour flights bearable and bar crawls on a freezing New York night make sense.Why would they do this to us when we're all going to die anyway?
G'morn
Watching a reticent sun, open one eye washed with sleep,bravely throw the duvet off, clamber out of bed and hug the world.
Bushed
Lights, camera, action. Its time for the creep to take a holiday.
Watch him grin, watch him squirm,watch him crush the little worm.
Make him run, make him weep, make him meet the chimney sweep.
See him flog the dead horse twice
The world is watching,it ain't nice.
So change the rules, purge the fools,
Burn the money, crack the tools.
Sweep the stench of spilt blood clean
And please get off my TV screen!
Watch him grin, watch him squirm,watch him crush the little worm.
Make him run, make him weep, make him meet the chimney sweep.
See him flog the dead horse twice
The world is watching,it ain't nice.
So change the rules, purge the fools,
Burn the money, crack the tools.
Sweep the stench of spilt blood clean
And please get off my TV screen!
What in the world
What in the world made the mad dog bark
What in the world made the sun so dark
What in the world made the deaf child cry
What in the world made the sky so high
Who in the world heard a dead man sing
Who in the world knew hate was king
Why in the world do memories pale
Why in the world do thoughts go stale
Where in the world can dark deeds hide
Where in the world does laughter abide
When in the world will we do things right
When in the world will we stop the fight
What, who, why, where, when
The lunatic's at it again.
What in the world made the sun so dark
What in the world made the deaf child cry
What in the world made the sky so high
Who in the world heard a dead man sing
Who in the world knew hate was king
Why in the world do memories pale
Why in the world do thoughts go stale
Where in the world can dark deeds hide
Where in the world does laughter abide
When in the world will we do things right
When in the world will we stop the fight
What, who, why, where, when
The lunatic's at it again.
Saturday, January 28
Song remains the same
Its a long way till spring, and Christmas is long gone.
Can you feel the whiteness of the world outside?
No grass, no leaves, no sun.
Just trees, in naked frostbitten splendour.
Shocking the horizon.
Did you say you would write me a poem?
Did I say I would sing you a song?
...............................
It's awfully considerate of you to think of me there
and I'm most obliged to you for making it clear
that I'm not there
and I never knew the room could be so big
and I never knew the room could be so blue
and I'm grateful that you threw away my old shoes
and brought me here instead dressed in red
And I'm wondering who could be writing this song
I don't care if the sun don't shine
I don't care if nothing is mine
and I don't care I'm nervous with you
I'll do my loving in the winter
And the sea isn't green
and I love the queen
and what exactly is a dream
and what exactly is a joke.
Pink Floyd- Jugband Blues (A saucerful of secrets)
Can you feel the whiteness of the world outside?
No grass, no leaves, no sun.
Just trees, in naked frostbitten splendour.
Shocking the horizon.
Did you say you would write me a poem?
Did I say I would sing you a song?
...............................
It's awfully considerate of you to think of me there
and I'm most obliged to you for making it clear
that I'm not there
and I never knew the room could be so big
and I never knew the room could be so blue
and I'm grateful that you threw away my old shoes
and brought me here instead dressed in red
And I'm wondering who could be writing this song
I don't care if the sun don't shine
I don't care if nothing is mine
and I don't care I'm nervous with you
I'll do my loving in the winter
And the sea isn't green
and I love the queen
and what exactly is a dream
and what exactly is a joke.
Pink Floyd- Jugband Blues (A saucerful of secrets)
Friday, January 27
Party time on friday night
Fecund shadows fall all around me.
Sweeping crumpled leaves from under the sofa
Picking grass off the TV screen
and flowers from the ceiling.
Smell the pines on the couch
Chase the clouds off the dining cloth
Catch the stars in your coffee cup
and the moon hiding in the microwave.
Dirt on my door
Mud on my floor
Sun on the sheets
Rain on my feet
I've been waiting for this visit for ever so long.
Sweeping crumpled leaves from under the sofa
Picking grass off the TV screen
and flowers from the ceiling.
Smell the pines on the couch
Chase the clouds off the dining cloth
Catch the stars in your coffee cup
and the moon hiding in the microwave.
Dirt on my door
Mud on my floor
Sun on the sheets
Rain on my feet
I've been waiting for this visit for ever so long.
Come play with me
Lying back on a lazy cushion and plucking petals off the pretty red
pansies,swimming cheerfully in my blue crystal bowl.
Got my fingers wet.
Running them lightly along the frosted window pane,
writing names of people I don't know.
Pushing my face wide eyed against the cool glass,nose pressed hard.
Breathing out.Watching strange shapes form,and disappear again.
Again and again.
Tap a can of diet coke,and shake a leg to the beat. Crack it open,
(don't you love that sound!).Pour it down from three feet up, watch it writhe and froth, brown and gold. Molten mess.
Hug a smooth pink pillow, and do the jig, pummel it till that
soft feather blizzard engulfs you. Fall down laughing.Rollover and wink at the nude on the wall.
Rub a green balloon till it crackles and squeals,holler at the boogieman. Squeeze a tomato and watch it drip-magnificently,silently,pathetically.
Lie back again, smile,shut your eyes and feel like an angel.
pansies,swimming cheerfully in my blue crystal bowl.
Got my fingers wet.
Running them lightly along the frosted window pane,
writing names of people I don't know.
Pushing my face wide eyed against the cool glass,nose pressed hard.
Breathing out.Watching strange shapes form,and disappear again.
Again and again.
Tap a can of diet coke,and shake a leg to the beat. Crack it open,
(don't you love that sound!).Pour it down from three feet up, watch it writhe and froth, brown and gold. Molten mess.
Hug a smooth pink pillow, and do the jig, pummel it till that
soft feather blizzard engulfs you. Fall down laughing.Rollover and wink at the nude on the wall.
Rub a green balloon till it crackles and squeals,holler at the boogieman. Squeeze a tomato and watch it drip-magnificently,silently,pathetically.
Lie back again, smile,shut your eyes and feel like an angel.
Merely information?
Each year, almost 11 million children die before the age of five of preventable diseases. That’s 30,000 children a day!
An estimated 143 million children in the developing world — 1 in every 13 — have suffered the death of at least one parent.
More than 1 million children live in detention, awaiting trial for minor offenses. Many of these children suffer gross neglect, violence, and trauma.
Hundreds of thousands of children are caught up in armed conflict including sex slaves for armed groups.
Despite laws over 80 million girls across the developing world will be married before they turn 18.
An estimated 171 million children are working in hazardous conditions
Nearly 2 million children are used in the commercial sex trade, where they routinely face sexual and physical violence
Think about it. Know about it. Remember and then perhaps...
Click title link for more.
An estimated 143 million children in the developing world — 1 in every 13 — have suffered the death of at least one parent.
More than 1 million children live in detention, awaiting trial for minor offenses. Many of these children suffer gross neglect, violence, and trauma.
Hundreds of thousands of children are caught up in armed conflict including sex slaves for armed groups.
Despite laws over 80 million girls across the developing world will be married before they turn 18.
An estimated 171 million children are working in hazardous conditions
Nearly 2 million children are used in the commercial sex trade, where they routinely face sexual and physical violence
Think about it. Know about it. Remember and then perhaps...
Click title link for more.
Thursday, January 26
Shhhh...
Its not a day for words
Not for smiles either
Not even for coffee.
Perhaps images will suffice.
Smoke and mirrors?
Even the tiny fleck of yellow
piercing the smoothness
of closed eye oblivion
Batters the nerves.
Fearing the tap may drip
The phone may ring
and the neighbour's dog...
Build me a foolproof corner
Deaf and blind
To the noises in my head.
One sesame cracker if you do that for me
Just don't crunch it around me,please.
Not for smiles either
Not even for coffee.
Perhaps images will suffice.
Smoke and mirrors?
Even the tiny fleck of yellow
piercing the smoothness
of closed eye oblivion
Batters the nerves.
Fearing the tap may drip
The phone may ring
and the neighbour's dog...
Build me a foolproof corner
Deaf and blind
To the noises in my head.
One sesame cracker if you do that for me
Just don't crunch it around me,please.
Wednesday, January 25
Going Down
The girl at her window looked out expectantly.
Clad in lime green silk and delicate ochre shoes,
she could have passed for sixteen, were it not for
those knowing eyes gleaming with the memory of what
was to come.
A secret smile played around the carefully done
redcurrant lips with just that hint of transparent gloss.
A cool wind slid in and brought her cheeks alive and
sunlight caressed her well brushed hair,lending sparks
to its paleness.
Time stood still when she least wanted it to. Glancing in the
mirror yet again,she straightened the solitary emerald laughing
back at her, sighed happily, and went back to the waiting window.
No one remembered just when the doorbell rang, or how she flew
down the staircase and then paused at the foot, flushed,heart racing.
But they did remember,how, not very much later she was found,
hair unkempt,cheeks pale,all in red,
lips blue.
And the emerald was still laughing.
Clad in lime green silk and delicate ochre shoes,
she could have passed for sixteen, were it not for
those knowing eyes gleaming with the memory of what
was to come.
A secret smile played around the carefully done
redcurrant lips with just that hint of transparent gloss.
A cool wind slid in and brought her cheeks alive and
sunlight caressed her well brushed hair,lending sparks
to its paleness.
Time stood still when she least wanted it to. Glancing in the
mirror yet again,she straightened the solitary emerald laughing
back at her, sighed happily, and went back to the waiting window.
No one remembered just when the doorbell rang, or how she flew
down the staircase and then paused at the foot, flushed,heart racing.
But they did remember,how, not very much later she was found,
hair unkempt,cheeks pale,all in red,
lips blue.
And the emerald was still laughing.
Down again
The boy on the bridge spoke to no one.
Red jumper, dirty blue trainers and hair that kept
getting in his eyes. Long lean fingers tapping a beat
absently on the cold iron rail.
His lips twitched a little now and again and his brow
furrowed ever so slightly as he blinked,and blinked again.
The cobbles below his feet remained unmoved.
Strangers drifted past,glassy faces.
A dog ambled up and sniffed. Started,looked up once and scuttled away.
A light wind swept the water below, that was losing its warmth
to the setting sun. The patter of hurrying feet slowly faded around him.
Shadows emerged quietly and hugged the trees protectively.
Night opened her arms.To an empty world.
Always generous, ready to hide what you never want to see.
The moon had gone away.
He strained his ears for a familiar sound.
A mother crooning a baby to sleep perhaps? A little laughter or a
muffled sob? At least a distant car or leaves whispering?
Nothing.
And so he knew.
Only the sky watched his shoulders speak, and still
no one heard. The tune in his head was long gone.
His cheeks motionless now. Calm at last as he went down down
Down.
Red jumper, dirty blue trainers and hair that kept
getting in his eyes. Long lean fingers tapping a beat
absently on the cold iron rail.
His lips twitched a little now and again and his brow
furrowed ever so slightly as he blinked,and blinked again.
The cobbles below his feet remained unmoved.
Strangers drifted past,glassy faces.
A dog ambled up and sniffed. Started,looked up once and scuttled away.
A light wind swept the water below, that was losing its warmth
to the setting sun. The patter of hurrying feet slowly faded around him.
Shadows emerged quietly and hugged the trees protectively.
Night opened her arms.To an empty world.
Always generous, ready to hide what you never want to see.
The moon had gone away.
He strained his ears for a familiar sound.
A mother crooning a baby to sleep perhaps? A little laughter or a
muffled sob? At least a distant car or leaves whispering?
Nothing.
And so he knew.
Only the sky watched his shoulders speak, and still
no one heard. The tune in his head was long gone.
His cheeks motionless now. Calm at last as he went down down
Down.
Tuesday, January 24
Desire
Watch it brewing
Soft swirls
simmering gently
mischievously
Dark dark pools
of richness
Chuckling invisibly
Hovering expectantly
Heaving excitedly
Waiting to soak its way
into your jaded being
Find you
Bind you
Astound you
Warm you
Storm you
Alarm you
Tease you
Ease you
Release you
Till that 'ravelled sleeve of care'
can be knit no more.
Eyes wide open
Daze broken
Pulse racing
Feet pacing
Savour the core
as senses soar
Craving more?
Here's another pot of my best Kenyan.
Never
Once upon a time
The world was square
The sky was bare
and the sun rose
in the middle of the night.
Once upon a time
The sea was red
The trees were dead
and the clouds
were out of sight.
Once upon a time
The hills had wings
The grass could sing
and the rain
would burn so bright.
Forgot the moon
Forgot the stars
Bad poetry
won't take me far.
The world was square
The sky was bare
and the sun rose
in the middle of the night.
Once upon a time
The sea was red
The trees were dead
and the clouds
were out of sight.
Once upon a time
The hills had wings
The grass could sing
and the rain
would burn so bright.
Forgot the moon
Forgot the stars
Bad poetry
won't take me far.
Monday, January 23
Double up
How do you peel an orange and play the violin at the same time?
Use teeth for the orange.
How do you peel an orange and play the flute at the same time?
You tell me.
How do you write a story and workout at the same time?
Keep laptop on the treadmill.
How do you write a story and scrub the bath at the same time?
You tell me.
How do you whisper and listen at the same time?
Delink vocal chords from ears.
How do you whisper and scream at the same time?
You tell me.
Or shall I tell you?
Same way we laugh and cry together.
Same way we love and hate together.
Incorrect.
Does not answer all the above.
Just be two people.
In your head.
Doubled productivity
Enhanced creativity
Need for help - negative.
Use teeth for the orange.
How do you peel an orange and play the flute at the same time?
You tell me.
How do you write a story and workout at the same time?
Keep laptop on the treadmill.
How do you write a story and scrub the bath at the same time?
You tell me.
How do you whisper and listen at the same time?
Delink vocal chords from ears.
How do you whisper and scream at the same time?
You tell me.
Or shall I tell you?
Same way we laugh and cry together.
Same way we love and hate together.
Incorrect.
Does not answer all the above.
Just be two people.
In your head.
Doubled productivity
Enhanced creativity
Need for help - negative.
Wild nights
WILD nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,—
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
On high
7am in NYC.
11am in London.
4.30pm in India.
7pm in HongKong.
Somewhere in between, where the sun is setting hazily,lazily
over patches of glazed water scattered amidst rough mountain
edges.Every wrinkle illuminated in curves and shadows except
where those persistent, even now white, clouds interfere.
Four distinct lines of colour yellow orange gray and deep purple.
Moving on to a flattened barren brown expanse as I squint through
the cracked cloud cover which looms suddenly in crazy shapes,
I no longer want to decipher.
Search the inflight map for coordinates of the unrecognisable
vastness I'm leaving behind.
Its not about getting there-enjoy the ride,
a voice in my head desperately pleads.
Everything is finite I respond patronisingly.
"Peach bordelou with custard sauce or rasmalai for you?"
Both please. And leave the cashews and camembert beside the
port while I finish my sundried tomato rolls (caked in 19mm butter).
Little silver glints in the window shooting off my glass of
full bodied Medoc 2002 (with red fruits, spices, coffee,
chocolate and a touch of vanilla and fruit tannins)
-or was it still the dying sun playing outside?
A long drawn out painstakingly tantalising version of
'summertime' assaulting eardrums. Its winter, dammit.
Switch tracks.Kelly Clarkson singing 'Gone'.
Switch again. Switch drinks.
One Pacific sunrise please (champagne and drambuie
with zest of orange and hint of mint).
Licking my lips in anticipation.
Staring steadily ahead after fourth glass-
baby bassinet must be stowed during takeoff,landing and turbulence.
Lavender tablecloth trembles gently and I clutch the black
and moss amoeba shaped salt and pepper cellars as the plane
heaves and shivers.
I love panic.
Deep blue cobalt sky,twisted silhouettes.
Wondering if we'll plunge down on the Gobi desert perhaps,
or if the fuselage will burn through before we see the best
of it. Anything for a thrill, or for some calm. I get it.
The latter I mean.
Still green curtain ahead and quiet snores.Muted light.
Don't look at the window- its too dark to see anything but
your frightful reflection.
Two blue pillows and blanket,fragrant coffee,chopin nocturne
and the world rolling by light years below me
Gaining perspective miles from home
miles from anywhere-
or not.
Muckers
Poetry sucks.
No, of course I don't mean that.
Big bucks
Yes, of course I want that.
Too many ducks.
Think hard about that.
You've run out of luck.
Scared to believe that?
Wallowing in muck.
Hard to beat that?
Need a tummy tuck.
Too late to treat that?
Give me a lead I can follow
Give me a pill I can swallow
Give me a girl I can cheat
Give me clean shapely feet
Give me minds I can read
Give me words I can heed
Give me a soft warm bed
Give me a skin I can shed
Give me a harvest I can reap
And a promise I can keep
Give me fights I can win
Give me clarity above the din
And would you please,
pass the crackers and cheese?
Friday, January 20
Everyday
Once a day
the man puts the garbage out
Once a day
he feeds the cat
Once a day
He takes a bath
Once a day
he does the dishes
Once a day
he checks his mail
Once a day
he reads the newspaper
cover to cover
over one cup of coffee.
Once Once
If only
he could do it once over.
the man puts the garbage out
Once a day
he feeds the cat
Once a day
He takes a bath
Once a day
he does the dishes
Once a day
he checks his mail
Once a day
he reads the newspaper
cover to cover
over one cup of coffee.
Once Once
If only
he could do it once over.
Everybody's changing
This is not about chameleons.
Its about birds of a feather
And the cat who forgot how to meaow.
Its not about the yuppie who hit the big time
Nor the forgotten celeb in rehab
Neither is it about you or me
Just dogs of war. Thats all.
Do I detect a flicker of a smile
Gone wrong
That slight frown
Discerning crows feet
Clouding a stormy look
Cloaked in vagueness
A ruse for remembrance.
Barometers,weather vanes
Dismembered walls
Lost literature.
the list goes on-
and people
what of them
running to stand still
doing what they don't do best
making it,breaking it
staking it,faking it
taking it
crack or crackers?
Its about birds of a feather
And the cat who forgot how to meaow.
Its not about the yuppie who hit the big time
Nor the forgotten celeb in rehab
Neither is it about you or me
Just dogs of war. Thats all.
Do I detect a flicker of a smile
Gone wrong
That slight frown
Discerning crows feet
Clouding a stormy look
Cloaked in vagueness
A ruse for remembrance.
Barometers,weather vanes
Dismembered walls
Lost literature.
the list goes on-
and people
what of them
running to stand still
doing what they don't do best
making it,breaking it
staking it,faking it
taking it
crack or crackers?
Perfection
Just ordinary people
Making do
On a windy afternoon
Weaving tales that never were
And of course never will be.
Striding down the mall
Nervous glances
Coffee on the park bench
Watching kids play
As the relentless sky
Looks on
Yet another day
No light
No chatter
No moon either
Perfection
Just the same song
In his head
In his mind
For no one
Least of all
For her
And yet
It never stops
The laughter
And loathing
Left behind
In a room
Full of ghosts
Making do
On a windy afternoon
Weaving tales that never were
And of course never will be.
Striding down the mall
Nervous glances
Coffee on the park bench
Watching kids play
As the relentless sky
Looks on
Yet another day
No light
No chatter
No moon either
Perfection
Just the same song
In his head
In his mind
For no one
Least of all
For her
And yet
It never stops
The laughter
And loathing
Left behind
In a room
Full of ghosts
Thursday, January 19
My ghost
Someone tells a story.(see title link)
A bad story? True? One half perhaps.
They forgot about the ghost who talks.
And makes music in the middle of the night.
And cuddles up cloaked in transparent white.
Surrogate teddy bear
'course I've seen him.
He never said goodbye
<
A bad story? True? One half perhaps.
They forgot about the ghost who talks.
And makes music in the middle of the night.
And cuddles up cloaked in transparent white.
Surrogate teddy bear
'course I've seen him.
He never said goodbye
<
Breathe
Smoking like a goddamned chimney
What a godawful phrase
Just in case your thinking
I'm hung up on the good ol' almighty
Here's to him and his fan following.
Apologies to the religious millions
I'm a frequent church goer
alpha course and all that
Singing fervently with the band
of feverish believers
hoping,praying for salvation.
All we need
is sweet mindnumbing
nirvana
So say it one and all
SMOKING KILLS
Life thrills
Love chills
By the way
Kali also kills
Rabbis rant
Mullahs mull
on the means to
Rule the world.
Dont we all?
So give me a fag
Silk cut, lights
Breathe
forget
Start again
Preserve your lungs
for posterity
patches and all
picture perfect
Like that being you never were.
What a godawful phrase
Just in case your thinking
I'm hung up on the good ol' almighty
Here's to him and his fan following.
Apologies to the religious millions
I'm a frequent church goer
alpha course and all that
Singing fervently with the band
of feverish believers
hoping,praying for salvation.
All we need
is sweet mindnumbing
nirvana
So say it one and all
SMOKING KILLS
Life thrills
Love chills
By the way
Kali also kills
Rabbis rant
Mullahs mull
on the means to
Rule the world.
Dont we all?
So give me a fag
Silk cut, lights
Breathe
forget
Start again
Preserve your lungs
for posterity
patches and all
picture perfect
Like that being you never were.
Of toadstools and tic tac toe
Reminds you of when we were children?
Were?
You sure?
Dont you hate answering questions?
Curl a lip in disdain.
Ask 'em instead.
Keep asking
Till the cows come home
(where are they by the way?)
Till your jaws ache
and your tongue twists
and your teeth grind
your saliva into blood.
Were?
You sure?
Dont you hate answering questions?
Curl a lip in disdain.
Ask 'em instead.
Keep asking
Till the cows come home
(where are they by the way?)
Till your jaws ache
and your tongue twists
and your teeth grind
your saliva into blood.
Campari cutting
What is it about that deadly Italian aperitif that mesmerises me?
That oh so smooth sickeningly bittersweet bloody liquid magic,diluted with just a touch of ice, that threatens to overwhelm every other sense?
Just look at it-glistening madly,raw red,thawing the frigid glassy exterior of a misshapen ice cube,reflecting every mad eyed moody glance, bloodshot many times over.
Take my advice, dump the vermouth, cinzano,oranges,strawberries etc that are 'recommended' for that famous campari cocktail evening of flashing smiles and sequinned sartorial snazz-
Just do it straight-till it burns your insides seductively and leaves that unforgettably bitter taste on a tongue - you want to savour.
Who needs crackers.
That oh so smooth sickeningly bittersweet bloody liquid magic,diluted with just a touch of ice, that threatens to overwhelm every other sense?
Just look at it-glistening madly,raw red,thawing the frigid glassy exterior of a misshapen ice cube,reflecting every mad eyed moody glance, bloodshot many times over.
Take my advice, dump the vermouth, cinzano,oranges,strawberries etc that are 'recommended' for that famous campari cocktail evening of flashing smiles and sequinned sartorial snazz-
Just do it straight-till it burns your insides seductively and leaves that unforgettably bitter taste on a tongue - you want to savour.
Who needs crackers.
Why M?
Mist on the moping
myopic miasma
Myriad May mornings
Mapping mostly
married menopausal
men
in masses of mayhem
Making movies
in mottled minds
As madly maimed
maidens
make music
Muffled moans
mirror
Mocking makeshift madness
My morning coffee
miffs and mutters
Musing motionless
on the morbid majesty
of make-believe
magic
Meanders messily
Meditates mindlessly on
Mythic moments
Missed meanings
Mellowing meanly
Measuring keenly
Much said.
Anyone for mildly mildewed crackers?
myopic miasma
Myriad May mornings
Mapping mostly
married menopausal
men
in masses of mayhem
Making movies
in mottled minds
As madly maimed
maidens
make music
Muffled moans
mirror
Mocking makeshift madness
My morning coffee
miffs and mutters
Musing motionless
on the morbid majesty
of make-believe
magic
Meanders messily
Meditates mindlessly on
Mythic moments
Missed meanings
Mellowing meanly
Measuring keenly
Much said.
Anyone for mildly mildewed crackers?
Devil may care
The Devil walked into my office the other day.
Strolled in casually,wearing a smug grin, starched white shirt,
crumpled khakis (heartstopping) and yes, the most divine pair
of grunge green shoes I'd ever laid eyes on.
Ignored me pleasantly and made himself at home - long legs
sprawled unbecomingly, slurping the darkest Colombian coffee
out of my lilies and doves mug. Lazily reached for an oatmeal
cracker and swore sweetly after the first onslaught on his
delicate palate.
I watched.
Fiddled with the nouveau design studded desk calendar,
flicked contemptuously through my all- important intray
and reached possessively for my little black book.
I froze.
Squinted quizzically, raised an eyebrow, assumed his
bored-est expression and drifted around my manicured
cabin examining slices of my work existence organised
in neat sheets of paper on the walls. Browsed my
carefully put together urgent task list on the whiteboard,
the coveted awards and little snippets of 'thank you's'
and 'you did it' designed to remind me I'm a 'fighter',
and all that blood and sweat was not for nothing!
Shrugged dismissively.
And all the while I watched.
Paused awhile by the window, soaked in the sunny view over
rooftops of lesser offices, brushed past my shiny black
leather seat, pierced my computer screen with a searching
eye and came dangerously close...
Talk to me while I look at your shoes.
Its freezing in here. Turn up the lights.
Let me look at you. No please. Don't say a word.
This is my corner not yours.
Footfalls in the corridoor. Staring at the half closed
door and empty room.
More coffee?
Strolled in casually,wearing a smug grin, starched white shirt,
crumpled khakis (heartstopping) and yes, the most divine pair
of grunge green shoes I'd ever laid eyes on.
Ignored me pleasantly and made himself at home - long legs
sprawled unbecomingly, slurping the darkest Colombian coffee
out of my lilies and doves mug. Lazily reached for an oatmeal
cracker and swore sweetly after the first onslaught on his
delicate palate.
I watched.
Fiddled with the nouveau design studded desk calendar,
flicked contemptuously through my all- important intray
and reached possessively for my little black book.
I froze.
Squinted quizzically, raised an eyebrow, assumed his
bored-est expression and drifted around my manicured
cabin examining slices of my work existence organised
in neat sheets of paper on the walls. Browsed my
carefully put together urgent task list on the whiteboard,
the coveted awards and little snippets of 'thank you's'
and 'you did it' designed to remind me I'm a 'fighter',
and all that blood and sweat was not for nothing!
Shrugged dismissively.
And all the while I watched.
Paused awhile by the window, soaked in the sunny view over
rooftops of lesser offices, brushed past my shiny black
leather seat, pierced my computer screen with a searching
eye and came dangerously close...
Talk to me while I look at your shoes.
Its freezing in here. Turn up the lights.
Let me look at you. No please. Don't say a word.
This is my corner not yours.
Footfalls in the corridoor. Staring at the half closed
door and empty room.
More coffee?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)