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

Let me whisper you a world spread in open-palm
   and lay you wide-pictures etched in cobble-stone
   till your feet find their way in the wake of alt-time

Let me grow you orchards on margins of probabilities
   and capture breezy-smiles to place upon your sleeve
   till illumined-steps of afternoon crumble before angels

Let me turn the planets on fingertip high upon wheel-rim
   and show you matte mirror-lakes of superb-chances
   till the evening-sky feels the shy-tiptoe of moon-kiss


please… let me….?


S T -  4 dec 13

welcome to light-city
where a dead-****** is on the back of a golden goose
head thrown back in rigor-mortis, days old

1.
the plaza is on fire
one man walks out his delirium into a derelict-town
with so many glittering-lights on
an unhealthy-sheen to his face.. some melted skin
   he seeks the looted-gold the long-plaited one assured was his
   he can't hear the dark-whispers right behind him
   his shoulder-blade itches with a fury no typical-scratch can relieve
nor can he sense the violent-energy half-crackling in the air
hovering in the wings of that dry-wind.. in sullen hiss-spits


2.
elsewhere, many give thanks on the prairie
where daffodils fly free in love
            a motorcade of bikers with a moon's view
            bespectacled-waiter can ask for help
            one child holds in hand.. so many open-answers that adults just fail to see
and dreamers dream *the same dream
in a broken, incredulous world
(you can't hide away in your dreams
   they over-foam your running-legs)
                                      yes.. scamper..!
beware those pretty-wigs who tug at firm-minds
                                              who force you to skirt the true-issue
you plain-refuse to see what you're tripping over
in case it resembles that.. stuff inside


3.
there's a hue of bright-orange in the distance and you can't deny it
it is there
      you can't see it yet
      but you can smell it
within an arc of heightened-paranoia
it has started burning inside the back of your afrighted-eyes
drying out any recollection of estranged-promise
             in a hopeless land of artifice
be not perturbed by fumes which rise in choking-plumes
the workmanship of assiduous imps, dutifully-bound
beset to task all goodness and beleaguer any hope
that only the blind-man can feel in bones-vibrated


(bring forth your legs
tarry not
sing with fully) heartened to glory of light
there be a breaking in the pattern
not everybody made it
so less power to the battle


                                                        ­               the circle is not done..



static.. static.. static.. // static.. static.. static.. // static.. static.. static.. // static.. stat.stat.stat....... //




with a half-smile of patience (she says) -
within your dream.. I'm there
I call you forth
into real-light
here..




S T - 30 nov 13