"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

PIANIST

You look out at me as though
You were spying behind dark curtains;
Black hair combed out in luxury
And eyes confident and certain.

And there is mischief in those eyes
As if you guessed my only thoughts -
Knowing they are all about you
And my fear that all might come to nought.

It is as if you seek to reassure me
With a pose that prints a flirt;
As if you had issued an invitation,
Underwritten to imply no hurt.

Your smile adds to your claims
With lips that exist to be kissed;
And dimples of deep temptation -
Too deep to be dismissed.

And your hands are so sleek -
The instruments of a musician,
Who makes the ivory chant and speak
In riffs and trills of sweet precision.

I see the tilt of your lovely head,
And I quake at something about your stance
That signals not quite a coquette's call,
But perhaps your faith in happenstance.

Sunday, May 12, 2013

DINKUM

Some day we'll all be in competition.
Some day there won't be nothing but pain -
No time for holidays and no fishin' -
Every day drained out like the rain.

When did we all get so damn greedy?
When did we start to laugh at the lame?
Why are we so hateful and needy?
Everyone bears some of the blame.

Why are politicians so wealthy?
How did they store up so much gain?
For us it's just so hard to stay healthy,
And most of us are lashed with disdain.

We long for lives that are dinkum,
With love to keep us strong and aflame.
The ones who rule now better start thinkin'
Or get out and let others take aim.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

POLITICIANS

They swooped like plovers
And landed on the backseat of brilliance;
Never doubting their drive
And fortified with resilience.

We danced like cheer girls
And marvelled at their intentions;
While the sky began to skid
And they planned graceless inventions.

Now it has come to nothing
Except a long road of rebuilding;
Even true believers are gutted
And golden streets require regilding.