sue-dunhym
South African
Break some conventions, rules, walls, boundaries, lines and pencils. I'm curious and not easily ashamed. My poetry tries to go to the edge and let falling off be decided by the flapping wings of a butterfly. Well, that's theory. Thus, ignore what I just wrote (typed? said?). / / And I'm South African - if anybody felt like knowing that.
Only some things make sense.
Like full stops. No, they hardly make sense these days too.
The sun? No, not when you get down to it.
One tries not exaggerate,
but when the laws of physics
start to state
that the
only order is chaos
and that our Universe
for most of time
doesn't exist.
Or exists in different contexts
with different people
and different outcomes.
so either we exist in multiplicity
or not all.
One tends to exaggerate.
Why?
Saying nothing makes sense.
Sounds appropriate.
Sure.
We can function.
We know how to ********
But that’s the thing,
We make sense through lacking
This is it
Entropy
The natural turn to chaos.
Makes sense,
When you try to hold the handle
It breaks,
And you’re stuck
Entropy.
When you
Saw
Heared
Smelled
Touched
Tasted
Her for the first time
Entropy.
You – I? – were too far gone
Entropy.
You’ve fallen into chaos
Interesting...
As opposed to falling in love?
Makes sense.
Many would say it’s not at all like that.
Some of us are a little damaged.
Bruised. Scratched. Broken.
We don’t squeak.
We don’t light up.
We don’t walk.
A little damaged.
Some you can only hear the damage
When you shake them.
Broken bits are flung around.
Others, you hear nothing at all.
Full stops.
They use to make sense.
Now they look like commas.
Or exclamation points. Bang.
but yes if i flung my punctuation out
the window it would
not make sense as we
wouldntfunctionintheslightest
without the whitespace.
Let’s bring back the Universe
The sun
The nothing
The everything
The full stops
The periods
I’ll end my cryptic harangue
And step back from my rant.
It was grand to know you
And I’m ecstatic to consider
This:
Maybe in one of all those other
Universes,
It made sense
Rather that
Than not
Existing
At all.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 7:51 AM UTC
You descended from the ground
and took your
position
in front of me.
I looked at you out the corner of my eye.
I was staring a little.
My left shoulder was interested.
And my right shoulder
didn't care.
Time had moved.
Space had moved.
And the left shoulder screamed your name
How odd.
How interesting.
How cool.
But my left shoulder was
disappointed.
And my right shoulder
didn't care.
And so reality
advanced.
And my left shoulder
Breathed your name
(amongst others)
And then shrieked
As our existence
Touched again.
Somersaults and
Acrobats
How glad my left shoulder
became.
But soon we advanced again.
I thought
time may touch us soon.
My right shoulder
didn't care.
Serendipitous
and a bit convenient.
Our paths cross like
amorous lovers.
My left shoulder
burst into flames.
And then wet itself.
I planned to see you again.
My right shoulder didn't
care.
We spoke
We wrote
We become aware of our greater
existence.
My left shoulder
had relaxed
but was still interested.
You were odd.
You were interesting.
You were cool.
Now my right shoulder
Looked up
and stared.
Then we began to chat
To speak wanton thoughts.
And released
the beasts.
We didn't notice
The carnage.
And my left shoulder hid away.
And I tried to ignore.
And my right shoulder stood forth.
Salai
Sweet and seductive
Salai.
You knew before me.
You had no choice.
But whether through my left
or my right.
Or just me.
I will always find you
Secretive and sensual,
Strange Salai.
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 7:48 AM UTC
I will laugh and
Smile
As we spend time together.
Spend your time with me.
Between two dots in the Universe.
Where we will weep and cry
At the final dot.
Melancholic and morose.
Before, we will be
Sanguine
Jovial
Exuberant
Happy.
Happy for the time between
Two points.
Infinity will beam and
Take the hands of Oblivion
And swing his lover
Around as she squeals and
Laughs
They will make love in
The sunshine; The moonlight;
During witching hour
And watch the sunrise
Merely to do it all again.
Perhaps we will fall in love.
Infatuated. Intoxicated.
(one more to complete the set.)
Perhaps you will be my muse
(I will go through forests and octopi.)
Perhaps I will be the one to make you cry.
When you become my siren;
When you crash me on the rocks;
We will reach the final dot
And fall in to the abyss.
Oblivion and Infinity
Will not catch us
In our descent.
And the time between two dots
Will be the only time that exists
And I’ll be
Ecstatic
To spend it
With you.
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 6:01 PM UTC
Make love to boring and ugly girls.
It’s easy, simple.
Kiss the ones you do not wish
Flirt with ***** sycophants and the silent girls.
Whatever. Even some boys.
They do not matter. That’s not the point
But there she is:
Siren
Muse
Nymph
Your tongue shall dissolve
Your lips shall fall
And your ***** shall shrink
She is not something bland
Nor mediocre
She is:
Sensational
Murderous
Nevermind: words have failed.
Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 6:00 PM UTC
How treacherous.
How boring.
It was a time between three and four.
A time between eleven and one.
The pre-emptive witching hour.
The incidental grey area.
My mind was a-buzz.
My thoughts were flashing.
I knew not what they were,
But I was morose and melancholic.
I could not work.
I could not sleep.
I could not think.
Chaos had become my order.
And infinity had become my moment.
Then, there ahead of me,
Stood two women,
Straight and strong.
One was a Siren
The other, a Muse.
I thought hallucinations.
Perceived ideas through a ******* mind.
But alas, they were real.
I touched them and reacted.
Warned against their poison.
Their mercuric tongues.
Their stolen hearts.
Their arachidonic souls.
And their odd Tsavorite eyes.
They walked.
I followed.
Into a labyrinthine hive,
They sauntered.
Nonchalant angels,
Indifferent to my stalk.
In the centre, there lay
An abyss.
They sat on the edge
And beckoned me
Forth.
I accepted, curious, yet cautious.
And through the Song of the Siren,
And the Myth of the Muse,
The blackness beckoned.
I fell, I flew to my mind’s end.
Accepted my descent, unknowingly.
The air was still. The tunnel black.
And I landed softly.
Alone. Safe. Hungry.
So, I walked to the edge.
The Siren waited. Offered her tail
And walked.
Crawled into smoke, was a Rat.
The Siren pointed, then followed
The smoke.
Rat awoke, to run to my foot,
Up my leg and towards my shoulder.
Rat pointed too,
So I walked to the edge
To appear in water.
Glistening and moist
Stood the Muse,
With a smile on her lips.
Again her tail led me,
As Rat jumped to the Muse.
We glided in the water,
Blinded in the dark,
Until we reached a cave, having dodged the rocks.
Inside, I was left,
Save for Rat.
The Muse flew off, a smile on her lips.
Drowning, by my waist, was a rodent. Erinaceous and small.
I lifted it up and placed Hedgehog on the opposite shoulder.
Hedgehog thanked me,
And showed me the way.
A niche in the rock.
We entered, all the same.
On the other side was a bed.
There lied the Siren and the Muse.
Seductive and Bare.
I was pulled forth.
Their tails were strong.
Their tongues were mercury.
Their hearts were stolen.
Their souls were arachidonic.
Their eyes were Tsavorite.
I was poisoned all along.
In vapid lust,
Morose passion,
Melancholic ecstasy,
It ended.
They have left me
Only with Rat and Hedgehog.
Here I will die.
Led to be abused.
All that shall be known
Of my boring and treacherous
Witching hour
Is this story.
I dedicate it to
The Muse,
The Siren,
Who are but one girl.
And to Rat, Hedgehog and me
Who is but one *******
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
We will fall in love
And be simple, complex and
Practical. No clichés.
No stupidity and it
Will be fun and still
Be love.
Maybe.
I will find you gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, and other adjectives.
I will, at least, be decent.
Together we will **** make love
And give in to intimacy
In the passing of a second
Or for as long as we can.
Maybe.
Our passion will be bizarre
As we surround ourselves
With incense and fire.
The smoke will gambol, balance, saunter, dance and copulate
Across your moist exposed skin;
Cocoon you.
And for a fleeting moment
The universe and I will agree
That you are perfect.
Maybe
You are all I desire,
In a
Person
Woman
Body
My Muse and Siren
(I will write you poems whilst I crash on the rocks)
Maybe.
Maybe,
I will stare across time
And maybe see you there.
Sometimes across space I see you.
Maybe.
Or maybe,
Just stare
And see you
In the stars
Or the sea
Or the rain.
Maybe,
In my mind
One day,
Maybe,
You might love me
Too.
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 2:46 PM UTC
If time is fleeting
Then life is fleeting.
So
Love should only last
Mere seconds.
If so
Then I dedicate
Each and every second
To you
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 2:45 PM UTC
I do not love you
Like the sycophants do.
Oh, though, I mimic their quality.
But I prefer to sound like me.
For otherwise, it would be an insult, a fool.
I do not love you
Like the champions do.
Their base and angular exterior
Mirrors there base and angular veneer.
I feel you should be loved in depth too.
I do not love you
Like the facades do.
Their actions help to create affection.
Yet, you know it is a mere distraction.
You could rather take love that can be seen through.
You experience many loves.
All that you know.
All that you don’t.
So it is time
I explained
What love I have for you:
I do not love you
As all the characters I told you do
As there is something they have
Something I cannot save:
They love you.
Adieu.
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 2:45 PM UTC
She drank the cyanide and
Immediately regurgitated
It on me.
I stoically
Glared at and began
To remove my
Clothes.
She quickly apologised but
Then
Forgot
About
It
Walked away and disappeared.
I soon found her
Again.
Lonely drinking
Alcohol
At a party.
I joined, but not for long.
She quickly
Left
Again
To some more interesting human-social
Caricature.
She ignored me.
She rebuked me.
She insulted me.
Yet, I was steadfast.
“Look like the innocent flower”
For I could not
Experience pain
From one I did not care for.
That was obvious.
I perpetuated my lie,
The first transgression upon my face.
What a lie.
What a devilish lie.
It has been too long now,
Too verbose.
Too eloquent.
Too persuasive.
No matter what it may do,
Now,
This lie,
This devilish lie
Will never
Die.
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 2:44 PM UTC
This worm crawls through ****
Believing it to be mud.
How sad, how quaint.
It toils forth and thus it faint.
Left alone to die, to sleep, to bud.
If only, to could **** from that fortunate ***
After a tempest, the worm awoke.
The smell had exacerbated,
And now, the worm knew it crawled in filth.
It tallied on, fourth, through the zilf.
It hoped, wished, that it might be alleviated.
Only, it would not: a cosmic joke.
Bacteria and flies swoon around.
Cautious, curious to the worm’s presence.
It looks not like them.
Yet, the odd and unique is where they stem.
But, still, he lacks their essence.
They enjoy the **** he seeks the ground.
The worm saw the bacteria and the flies.
He did not like them, but he accepted.
He had joined their culture.
So, he greeted a fly, through he wished to punch her.
She smiled, as is etiquette. Yet, it percepted
That this is only the first of the worm’s lies.
There crawls our worm again.
Who began to search for **** across the land.
Confused and an idiot, he misses the soil.
No time, none left except for his toil.
He says he seeks the ground, yet he can’t see past his hand.
To ourselves, we deceive, we’re determined, but it is all in vain.
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 2:44 PM UTC