Spikes fix above the
Dance shop
Pink

With frills tutus and
Little girls shepherded
By disappointed mums.

North-west
A dark flock massed
Swooping at dusk

Coating the pink in white
Black-spotted
Guano.

Birds.

If they connect
Those tiny
Brains...

it can be hours of silence
I strain to hear above it
adjusting the headphones
the small voices that hide between the wind
and the settling of the house
the leaves jostling about
brushing the roof
I push myself to continue
whispered footsteps from upstairs
birds greeting the yet unlit morning
this house is alive
with the dead who remain
and when I am about to succumb
to the blur of exhaustion
the child comes through...
'Mommy!'
not once, but multiple cries
the sadness and fear in her voice
is palpable
and I am helpless to help her

how many hundreds of years has this child
repeated her cries
in this house
in this room
refusing to leave
still searching for her mother

She's a stone. .
No, her heart is a  b o u l d e r . .
Can't be moved in force.
You need to break her into pieces first!

She's a flower ***. .
No, her mind is a towering  t r e e . .
Bear that she don't mind losing some leaves,
Rotten ones, go and fall to the seas!

She's a half moon.
No, her smiles are  e c l i p s e .
A sight to behold, but there's darkness
Once seen, could send death w/o peace!

She's a *** of liquid gold.
No, her eyes are  a s t e r o i d s. .
Falling endlessly,
Like gravity possessed space.

She's a sparkling gem.
No, her eyes are polished  d a g g e r s !
Without words she can ****,
That's how she seeks peace. .

In her, there's an  A t o m  o f   E v i l .
But a  U n i v e r s e  o f   L i g h t.
There's a blackhole of dust,
But colonies of stars. .

E v i l ,   y e t   l i g h t .
She lives, but never forgets.
A threshold too high, once full
Go hide under your blanket of scars!
Don't take a step, coz
It could be your last breath.

I can hear the lullaby of life,
            serenading
our movements to where
we sway delicately to its
                                inevitable
conclusion, a moment that
is elegance haemorrhaging to
                                                 silence..

*"Life is a masquerade of motions, we dance till they fade,

I wish to go back to being little
back when things were fun
and just stayed simple
I may be getting older
but I refuse to grow up :)

Today...
I could buy a new dress
I could pretend to be a princess
or not
But I will love til I can love no more
and will always be more thankful
than I was the day before

Do I smell cake? Yessssssss!!!!

Two tumbling Ivans, at least  in him, exist, he could tell
One is soft, easily provoked to pink  goosebumps, all over
When his lady love comes dancing, in a body hugging dress
There is the well known other,visceral,yes, "Ivan the terrible"
At the eruption of ******* frenzy,he who roars like a beast.

Perhaps few more too are on the prowl, all beyond the pale
If he challenges with a firm resolve,they may show up!

I've been meaning to say this to you,
but I've been biting my tongue for some time-
You don't have to be so afraid of me.
You don't have to hold your walls up so high.
I'm not here in siege, to tear down your defenses.
I didn't bring towers or ladders to climb.
I simply came knocking,
here at your gates,
hoping to be let in.
I caught just a glimpse of your garden,
and I would love to see it again.