marvel at the complex-pattern
painting such a span of swirls
light-panels less than shimmer
in the afternoon shadows on the wooden kitchen-table
biggest fear - your leaving


1.
beautiful summer-days lost in your eyes
oblivion dances like a wily-***** at hypnotising fire-licks
from our languid-bed, I'd lazy-feed you lox-on-crackers
and everything you liked
heaven never had it so good

........................till

woke up and *you weren't there
where'd you go to?
no letter, no call.. for days


2.
to overcome this fear
I brought in a  b-i-g-g-e-r  one
that used to drive me to serious-pitfalls in the past

off to the exotic pet-shop, my toes marched me
and I got one - very toxic thing on legs
without a natural terrarium

once home, I set it free
I set free.... my biggest fear
        to blot out your absence
        to overcome your presence
        to forget you

it crawled around and made a home
while I hardly breathed nor slept
and moved about on ginger-steps


3.
I kept feeling strands of your hair
          in my sleep
          on my cheek
          inside my cry
and woke to moonlight bathed in sweat

I did not wash your pillow, after weeks now
I bury my face in olfactory-memory lingering
and pine for you, but I see your missing set of keys and..

/ scratch .. scratch /

I hear a sudden scurrying
heartbeat jumps out cage
eyeballs to the parquet-floor

nothing.


4.
I'm getting used to this new pet
and she doesn't mind my breathing
                    oh, I swear she's a brain-scanner
                    when she looks at me that way
                    like she can read me.. through and through

I dare not pet, I dare not touch... ohhhh no!
       I leave her the daily-bowl of delicious, fresh worms
       to find it empty in the evening
I guess, thanks for freedom.. of sorts

one day, I left the window open
as I jotted down some poignant thoughts
at my antique-escritoire
    espied her legs upon the solar-sill
    thought she'd be running... a leaver, too
but no..    
                 she was sunning all her legs awhile


5.
the season's changing.. leaves are falling
crackle of wind in the air

now, I'm making me some coffee in my silver whistle-***
hot, solo beverage to calm my settling-mind
when.. ping-ping.. comes a text
lo and behold....
it is you...

you!


6.
delirium / delirium /
(I'm on cloud-nine... you're coming home tonight..
                                      you love me so much, you say..
                                      made a mistake..
                                       you've got something big to share..

I've taken time to prepare a special-meal.. candles and all your faves
but must pop out quick to get some lox...)


I'm back now, got the stuff now
key in lock
but the door.. jammed by a weight.. of sorts
can't seem to push the ****-door open...
shoving hard, I see........







fear compounded by a minus
simply multiplied
disaster




S T - 4 dec 13

your energy competes with mine,
a battle just to feel alive.
i know that i can't beat you,
so i only live to please you.
you cast away my sorrows
you numb all of my pain
they say i have everything to lose
but there is nothing for me to gain
you're my only support,
yet they say you tear me down.
i've been told to look forward,
but i like this view from the ground.
i seek you in the shadows,
constant struggle, endless fight.
and every time i find you,
they rush to turn on the light.
i smile at the thought of you
dancing in my veins,
my body is just a vessel,
you are my soul, my heart, my brains.
you let me be myself
though i don't know who that is.
i've lost track of who is using who--
but that is half the bliss.
i lean my head back,
let the world drip, and melt, and shatter.
i can't remember-- what is reality?
i suppose it doesn't matter.
you made me trust that you would join me
in the depths of my despair.
but lately it seems like you dragged me,
like i wasn't already there.

It's not our fault that we don't make good choices
It's not our fault that we hate each other
It's not our that we get angry for no reason
It's not our fault that we are never happy
It's not our fault that we say things we weren't supposed to say
It's not our fault that we make many mistakes
It's just human nature

I have come to the conclusion
That all of life is merely an illusion.

Time is nothing more than relative
And love is ridiculously sensitive.

We astonishingly keep in tact
By sudden moments of impact.

These moments, as glee as they may be
Never last for long, especially for me.

They pass by with a shimmer and a wink
And when they're gone I do nothing but drink.

But nothing is sadder as when I am twisted
Because that moment is gone; I missed it.

I do not hate myself though
Because it's impossible to feel low.

When I am high as a kite
Just thinking about tonight.

And how I came to the conclusion
That all of life is merely an illusion.

Happiness is a gift;
Do not let it drift.

For not everyone is able
To feel an emotion so stable.

It started at the beginning of adulthood
where the wandering into the new house
became a chore. The doorway greeted me
by snagging my woollen jumper.
The motorway was screaming, the battered gate happily hanging from its hinges.

His image first flashed into my sight,
And when I stared through the fogged up windows
I could still figure out his figure.
Loutish, he sauntered past
On a hillside, desolate.

He didn’t move for three hours.
He was most probably entwining the thorns from the bush
into his complex mind. Maybe
the boy with the thorn in his side
Had been brought to life by this mystery animal
With a mass of unkempt mane.
Unruly, unnecessary, untouched.

The notebook on my kitchen table lay untidily
waiting to be roughened up. I picked it up
and cast light over the paper.
I imagined him doing the same
But his art was thunderstorms
And mine merely a drizzle of rain.

I made progress
and the flowers were growing from my fountain pen.
Confidence developing, I invited him inside
And there were still no words from his unfathomable jaw.

A month later, we became one
and I still didn’t know where his intentions were lying.
I’m a girl afraid, does he even have any?

Ink *** after ink ***
I ran even further in this marathon of confusion.
I slowly slid from his dismissive grasp, his matted paws light
I had drawn graffiti over his portrait.
a permanent marker changed beauty into art.

I crept before his wake, into his sleep
And his lyricism lay imbibed in the walls, the desk, the door.
I felt the gale force energy cry inside
Which erupted like a volcano, turning remnants into ashes.
Face down, mane rough, scars bright, fur singed
Interior managed.

In the morning, I lifted his heavy paw away from me
And placed it peacefully beside him.