bustle and noise:
offers but a momentary
it is so easy to
drift off and forget
here, the watery balm
soothes celiac rashes,
a moment's reprieve
that shuts out reality,
provides sombre retreat...
cares float away
until unwanted thoughts
stray with blistered report.
It is quite possible,
through bolted locks,
to be a victim
of home invasion,
for someone to play
Corday to one's Marat--
a hapless victim, stabbed
at home, in one's bath.
It's bright outside
And the fields so green.
Let's take a ride
And lick our plates clean.
But hide me in your shadow,
Hold my trembling hand.
Forgive me in my sorrow,
My grief's nowhere to land:
I'm just a bird that no longer sings,
And that's grown too big for its wings.
a blinkon screen cursor blipsa dongleprovides wireless order
My feet throb through my shoes
after a brisk walk to the station.
I keep my ears plugged with my beats
as I find my seat at the furtherest point.
Backs of heads, napes, and collars
mushroom and stare at me --
my polarised sunnies paint them bright;
Yet all I see is a tiny reflection of me.
Here in my world another day begins.
This cosmos is peopled isolation.
Some life experiences bring a finality and an inner chaos that would not relent. Hence the jumbled imagery and tones. Hope the points carry across, subtle or otherwise.
In there somewhere was goodbye
Shoulders slump as footsteps fade into
the darkened hallway; out of sight.
Then a click-sound of a door, shut;
punctuates a chest-heaving full-stop.
Regret now seeps across the
tidal plain, waiting in vain hope
for a reverse ebb that doesn't arrive.
Regret, only regret remains:
Strain and hear that inaudible sigh
as you lock lips in silhouetted embrace;
It was the kiss of a toxic cocktail--
It's the burnt smell of rubber
that lingers thick in the air after
the smoldered wreck on the road.
It's the ping of a pin dropping
after a grenade had been lobbed
and the afterthought of my diving --
But did I dive to shield you or
was it to duck out of the way?
Regret is the sound of pebbles
tapping off a casket lid as they
bounce from a cascade of apologies.
Still that door clicks shut -- the last time.
Your footfalls fade into the bright,
searing light of the pain that is left behind.