"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)

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

LIFE SENTENCE

Amidst the marks of mucked up memories
There are several I will never
Novate nor sever.
They clustered when they careened
And crashed into my expectations.

Faking fun you flirted forever,
Far away from friendship,
Flinging my fragile affection
Into fiery flames
That I never ever fully forgot.

I know now that you used me
And I was ripe to be ruined.
Youthful beyond your years,
Yearning ‘til younger eyes
Made my head turn
Tired, tearful and trapped.

Yet we dared into dreams,
Dramatised and documented.
Drifting and drooping,
Dreariness dogged our days,
Until a dangerous damsel decoupled us.

Slipping into my slumbers,
Snaking around my soul,
Slithering inside my slender veins,
You enslaved me,
Splendid serpent,
Soothed me and slid away.

From then on I was spent,
Though I thought otherwise.
Still now I prize your poison,
Relishing its rough reminders,
And drinking every drip and drop
Before they mar my empty mouth.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

JUDGED

Auburn semi-desert,
Tired under the bleak sky.
A tattered terrain
Willing itself into existence
For billions of years
Has finally collapsed to near nothingness.
Flat, it goes on,
Seemingly forever.
Only random mounds
Of oddly rounded rubble
Punctuate the predictability.
Like it, I am nearing exhaustion.

My feet are wounded
From the rubbing of silicon sandals.
Gritty dust works like powdered emery
On blisters that burst long ago.
I escaped - 
Daring and exhilarating -
But the onset of weariness
Caught me by surprise.
I need to pace myself.
I need to rest.
I need to lean
Against any rotting edifice.

Disturbed, a dusky cockroach
Scrabbles its way between the cracks,
With an alert antenna visible,
Twitching in the weak sunlight.
Survivor of the judgement,
Just like me.
Survivors devour survivors to survive.
Food is food.
As a penalty for its stupid curiosity,
I capture the creature.
My meal wriggles, frantic, its extremes visible
In my clenched fist.


Monday, September 2, 2013

COASTAL GHOSTS

I love the lunging growl of the shorebreak
In the last moments of wakeful still night.
It sings sweet songs of years long gone and dead
And comforts me, soothing my splintered plight.

Waves roll and thump and then the sea turns mute
Before the next set crashes and crumbles
Across wet sands of sounds and murmurings,
Rocking rigid stars with rage and rumbles.

But in my lonely bed all noise abates
As my eyes close to see a smiling face;
And your laughing voice drowns out all rivals -
Only sound sleep disperses our embrace.