It’s night. Deepest darkest blackest night.

I feel the pinch and fear of one hunted,

the prey run out of options.

No help is given, though plainly demanded.

The thin veneer of civilization threatens to give way.



There is no escape from the knot in my stomach

because we’re hemmed in at all sides

and I’m panicking at the facelessness of my enemy,

as I evolve from woman to female.



What is the world where we aren’t what we thought we were?

From adults to children. From children to animals.

Stepping backwards. A warped progression.

Sterilize. Maintain. Control. Clean. Safe.



The world seems to whisper as if someone(thing?) is listening…

Big Brother(Sister?) the walls have ears(eyes?)…



KingdomPhylumClassOrderFamilyGenusSpecies.

Anama­liaChordataMammaliaPrimatesHominidaeHomoSapiens.



Two legs doesn’t mean you’re safe from

acting like you have four.

****

sapiens



Ecce, ****! Fiat lux.

or else we’re doomed.



Intellect to instinct.

Man to mammal.



Walk on two legs now, can you afford to lose them?



Ad insaniam, ut illuminabit…

Vel in flammis tandem finis.



SUM EST.



Chaos is closing in. Can you cope?

if I were a frog
first I’d dart my tongue out
and catch a fly

then with the same sticky tongue
I’d catch a human
actually as many as I can
and all the cars and streetlamps
and some mud and puddles of water
to sauce the whole thing
and eat them all whole
in one roll

And then I’d do the same thing
always with my sticky tongue
deracinate the trees, the rocks and mountains
and all living things
(all humans first I’d dispose of)
and all objects and planets and stars and space
and quasars and matter and anti-matter and zero
all stuck on my tongue and all rolled in one
and all these I’ll just swallow
if I were a frog
and I won’t stop till there’s nothing
except me
one gargantuan frog
and then I’ll burp
and then I’ll croak

*and then maybe I’ll burst

Despite the fact
that other local kids

were in the hay barn playing
Jane stood at the barn doors

looking in apprehensively
and you stood beside her

waiting for her to move in
or say something

but she just stood looking in
are we allowed in to play?

she asked
sure as long as we don’t

cause damage to the hay bales
you replied

and she sniffed the air
and moved in

and looked around
the huge barn

with its semi dark
and smells of hay

and captured sun
and warmth

the other kids played
but took no notice

of Jane or you
as you entered

closed the doors
and moved around

the hay strewn floor
haven’t you been

in a hay barn before?
you asked looking

at her bright summer dress
and white socks and sandals

yes years ago
she said

as she paused
at the edge

of the nearest hay bale
and sat down

and you sat beside her
in the semi dark

with sunlight making
small light through cracks

and holes in the walls
I don’t like mice and rats

she said
and I saw one once

in another barn
and it frightened me

you sat in silence
for a few moments

taking in the air and smells
and then the other kids

ran off out side
into the sunlight

talking of playing
down by the pond

and catching things
you sat still

until their voices died off
and then she said

why have you
brought me in here?

you looked at her eyes
in the dull light

and her lips moving
with their small speech

to be alone with you
without prying eyes

you said
oh I see

she replied
and stood up

and climbed upwards
on the hay bales

with you following
behind her

seeing her sway
as she moved

her hands pulling
her upwards

her legs taking each step
onto a hay bale carefully

then having reach
high up in the barn

she sat down
and you sat beside her

if my father saw me here
he’d think things

Jane said
and she looked at you

with her large eyes
what things? you asked

watching her lay back
with her hands

behind her head
I don’t know

he never said
she muttered

as she lay there
she lifted a leg

and her dress
slipped downwards

revealing a glimpse
of naked thigh

that’s parents for you
you uttered

never saying
what they think

or saying things
but don't explain

you lay down
beside her

on the hay
as outside the barn

the soft sound
of pitter patter

on the roof
of sudden rain.

the joyful dancer of my youth
prances about my room, whispering
truths to my all but deafened ears.

'go away,' i respond.  'you belong to a time
i am no longer a part of.'

she takes my hand, but the skeleton of
my existence pulls away from her.

'did you think it would be so easy to get
me out to the dance floor again?'

i am a stubborn woman,
lost to the steps of dancing ways.

no, i choose now to sit here and watch.
the tango of life dances, her fluid body
pouring itself across the floor.

i am a poet, you see, and i set myself
here on these sidelines because observation
and reflection are the only things that keep my
heart beating.

participation?  she speaks a language too foreign
to my ears for comprehension.

The arboretum watched her grow:
each day the wood-chipped path
would creep in through lace holes
and scrawl its earthen signature
upon her socks.
When she could walk on her own
the rustling blows tugged
the secrets of the leaves through the hair
she refused to fasten;
so it danced, rebelliously
on her shouldered landscape.
The labelled trees, landmarks to tourists
on the nottinghamshire tree-trail
linked outstretched arms in solidarity
around her when she froze on the bench
to skip the dining hall.
And the birds of paradise
who chirped in minor a lament
of their chicken-wire palace,
understood, when no one else could.

When they drained the lake to search
for a body,
and the parched park cried leaf-crisps
in red and orange, they were warned
from walking alone
and the grass stretches ached for
musing students to sprawl
chatter on its back.

When the time-dust sprinkled a veil
on the rumours and caution,
She appeared
taller, and hand in hand
with a boy.
They tried to decipher
the war memorial and it's message
in foreign symbols
for something to talk about.

The Arboretum has not seen her for
years,
but its crafted script
Is carved like wax in
her mind's journal.

A woman needs to feel like a woman
and man like a man

Don't tell me that's anything new
It's been that way since the world began

A woman needs to reproduce love
It's part of her genetic make up
So do all that you can
Surround her with selfless love
And you'll be her man

Don't tell me that's anything new
It's been that way since the world began

A man needs to know he is useful
Not just a ***** donor
Not just a means to your own plan
Give him the respect he is due
And he'll be your man

Don't tell me that's anything new
It's been that way since the world began

1
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper

2
Be quiet and still!
says the scissors
It's for your own good

Yeah? says the paper
Have you ever had
anyone cut you up like that?


3
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper
Snip! Snip!
says the scissors
Ouch! Ouch!
says the paper


4
There, says the scissors
I'm done
Cut you up square and neat
You're a homemade notepad now
ready to be used many times over
than when you were one!

And says the paper:
Oh, you stubborn dumbo!
I'm not for writing -
I'm koi paper
meant for origami!




POSTSCRIPT
Why didn't you tell me?

*I thought you knew
what you were doing
you ****** fool!

I went to work
and I worked hard
and it was humdrum, tedious
and so I wrote a poem
but you know, nobody pays for poems
You can dream
but you can't put bread on the table
so I went to work
and I worked hard
and it was humdrum, tedious
and so I wrote a poem
but you know, nobody pays for poems
You can dream
but you can't put bread on the table
so I went to work…