riverside blues

Shiny and smooth,

Tightly tucked in my bed,

Underneath my colourless blanket,

I remain here where you left me,

The feel of a thousand sunsets upon me,

The thrust of a dozen splashes above thee,

Do you see me?

Because I remain here where you left me,

The life of the water has wrapped me,

Decades of twirling fishes beside me,

Their death forever harmonic,

And yet I remain here where you left me,

Unmoved, unchanged,

Impenetrably solid.

 

I pray for that fatal flinging,

To crack my strife,

Exfoliate my hardened life,

Letting in life’s potion,

This is my pitiful plight,

A stone’s cry,

Ever so slight,

But until then dear blue,

I remain here where you left me.

 

 

An Invitation

In that split second mid-sky exchange,
The morning invited me to see the dawn,
She left me her numbers, coordinates I presume,
Where she will be when the darkness is torn,
And the great designer reconstructs the sky,
Embellishing it with egg yolk yellows,
stretching fingers of orange, blossoming blues,
As the eye of the sun re-opens,
That we may break the darkened fast on sunshine,
A beauty so uncommonly common, it’s absurd,
She dares me to trespass beyond my avowed darkness,
And try as I might, I could not get away,
The fortress of dawn is forever kept from me,
For when the hour was ripe,
From the battlements,
The arrows of first light were fletched,
Wedging painfully into my fabric,
They heard not my plight,
‘stead they set me alight
They tranquilized my efforts,
Flinging me far from sight
And now I awake,
As late as the afternoon,
A convalescent I remain,
My salve will arrive with the moon,
Not a moment too late, not a moment too soon,
I fear I may have to relent with the dusk,
With its grays and fading pomegranate violets,
My beautiful night’ sky and her pearls,
An ancient black beauty,
She can keep her dawn,
As I will my black bride.

Rescuing Yesterday

If the scientists are right,
And the threads of all reality,
Past,present &future,
Subtly rolled into one multi-yarn.

Sentenced to repeat,
Replay for eternity,
Hand me the water,
And the time capsule.

Just a gulp of the past,
That I may seal away,
All the pain,
All the strife.

Wind me up as you would,
A string of hope,
Let me wipe the tears of the future,
Before they fall.

Fear not for your todays,
Or whether you may witness,
The light of your tomorrows.

For I will risk it all,
To safeguard yesterday,
At the ultimate cost,
Of my today.

just the taste

HAPPINESS,
an acquired taste, some may say,
a rare delicacy it is.
Its marks indelible on my inner palate,
Though i fear i my never have tasted it at all.

Of it i hold faint memory,
like a mist atop a hill
Higher still and fading with every grasp.

It had the scent of an unknown wine,
brewed in men’s hearts.
At times with the tangy prick of sacrifice
& a sweetness of simplicity.

Intense it becomes,
In the presence of love,
& the simple majesties of mine,
dark legs, bumpy skin,crooked teeth, memories
I felt it then.

The memories have brought it back,
In the buds of my tongue it has sprung.
An unlikely taste indeed,
Always happening upon me,
Never when i’m in pursuit.

This taste is like nothing I’ve ever had,
yet it has the familiarity of everything I’ve always wanted.
Nonplussed at its mysticism, I fear
It will vanish,
I hope it does not.

fairytales

Now i have strangled them all,
I am no longer a princess.
All that remains,
Is this beautiful golden dust.

But of it,
I may have some use.

My hair has no flair,
It dangles not the length of a tower,
All that is,
are these tiny, black &curly cauliflowers.

I don them well enough,
On my head planted like a crown.

My prince was neither a frog,
neither newt nor toad,
he had white matted hair,
And oh how he slobbered.

To transmute into a prince, he will not,
though all i need are his sweet licks of loyalty.

As i said, I am a princess no more,
Neither a maid to be wed,
I am a king resurrected.
From that beautiful golden dust.

Only in the more pleasing &shapely form of your queen.

glass bottles

They cracked when i saw you,
That very first time,
these bottles of mine,
I keep them inside me,
They are glass you know,
They keep me sturdy, and firm,
They straighten my back,
Elongate my posture,
But they are just glass,
feeble,fragile, delicate glass,
the liquids inside them,
both fragrant and pungent,
I’ve collected for years,
From the drainage pipes of my soul,
Fluids of pain,
Fluids of angst,
Fluids of passion,
I’ve stored for years,
They have fermented now,
Some fine wines,
Others disgusting sludge,
And now they leak,
Since they cracked when i saw you,
That very first time,
These bottles of mine,
Now i worry,
What will happen if you touch me,
How they will crackle and shatter,
filling my body with spirits and poisons,
dissolving my soul,
Impossible to reconstruct,