I’d worked late the previous night,
programing applications.
When the alarm went off at four A.M.
I hit snooze- no hesitation.
Eventually my feet found floor,
I stumbled to the shower.
A routine usually done in ten
took me a half an hour.
I was running up the platform steps
but my train just left the station.
Great, I will be late for sure,
I thought, in consternation.
At least the day was perfect,
Warm and clear, no threat of rain.
I fished and found my ticket
and took the next westbound train.
The ”E” was fairly crowded
When I boarded it at Penn
I’d missed the first and I was glad
Another quickly came.
Beneath the streets of Gotham
The subway lurched downtown.
Above all hell was breaking loose
as two large planes were down.
I climbed the stairs up to the street
And entered the inferno
The sky now black from billowing smoke
Bright day turning nocturnal.

A Seven thirty Seven’s wheel-
I heard a woman screaming
I saw a body at my feet
Were we at war or was I dreaming?
I stared up at my window-
where I worked the night before.
Where flames and smoke leapt to the sky-
where my co workers were no more.
They’re jumping, someone shouted
I saw black specks launch from on high.
Better to die upon the street
Than to suffocate or fry.

I turn and ran, I am ashamed.
No Hero’s tale to tell.
I was a safe way away
when the first tower fell.

Had I not hit the button
or dawdled in the shower.
Had I caught my usual train
I’d be dead in the tower.

This is my shame and burden
To live when others died.
Preserved by fate and circumstance
From terror from the sky.

We ambled the streets of Harare
Meandering aimlessly
Fleeting past wide-eyes scanning us enviously
Hand in hand we walked into the restaurant
Leisurely on Second Street
Our hunger awakened
Our appetites heightened
At almost closing time
With no one in overtime mode
A signal that here we could only dine on another day


Joina City was our next stop
Up the lift right to the top
'Closed' it read at the coffee shop
Into the nearest chair I went flop!
Though hungry, we gabbed non-stop
By and by we regarded the clock
It chimed 8 o'clock
And sadly, it was time to go home

Busy and noisy
Were the streets of Harare
Jabbering crowds, kombis hooting
Hawkers, vendors or is it hustlers now -
Calling for buyers or just huddled to pass time
No chill in Harare
Picturesque like a dream
Surreal…
Hand in hand we dawdled
In despair for a hot meal

In the shimmering distance
Like a mirage in the desert
The neon lights read
'Creamy Inn'
Something to calm our rambling bellies
At last…
Nippy evening air hit our souls
'Ice-cream tastes better at night'
I said
'I can't believe I'm having ice-cream'
He said
We frolicked
Hand in hand we danced past faces painted with adoration
'What a handsome lover!'
They probably thought:
My delectable younger brother

Tread Carefully
Tread carefully through the tulips
Rush through the bluebells.
The tulips are perfume free
And the bluebells have smells.
You’d get pollen on your fingers
And powder on your toes
If you dawdled through the daffodils
And sat beneath the rose.
Sitting for more than an hour
Under the lilac tree.
Finally you would disappear
I know believe me.
Wandering past the lanes
On a dark Autumn night
If you get caught by a blackthorn bush
It would put up a fight.
Wandering through a strawberry field.
Being here would be a dream
Don’t forget your spoon and dish
And *** of rich double cream.

My high school ethics class taught me so much
For example, the fact it is completely fictional
Reminds me that I shouldn’t care
About the world we inhabit or our gaseous air
Why worry that we’re ****** every single resource?
Why worry about dying breeds of animals or melting polar caps?
Should we bother helping honey bees, or consider our affect on bats?
Would it be ok to take a person’s land then tell them what to grow?
When we took the land from natives, was it generous to tell them where to go?
Have you wondered why people living even now think it is ok to **** like Pol?
Or why some think we’re better off to be completely baffled by the genome?
When do embryos become humans, and what does that mean?
Is it ok to grind up cows in machines, or change their names to “Beef”?
Should we ignore terrorists sincere qualms?
Or refute their “strife” with nuclear bombs?
Are we making the planet a more peaceful place?
What a success my education has been!
Apparently school district officials were just challenging me
Because I would have found a purpose
If I knew there were so many chances for improvement
And I guess I should be thankful
That my dawdled years were not interrupted by concern
That one philosophy teacher might create
Because the way of life they placate
May just be in jeopardy
The day we learn that ignorance is greed

Garth lay still in the gilded cage
Unable to move a thing,
The bars were merely spiders’ webs
Of a faery’s magicking.
He’d wandered into the Faery Ring
Where he’d seen the mushrooms spread,
And now was caught in a faery spell
With the rest of the living dead.

With Tom, the Candlestick Maker’s son
And a barrel of candlewax,
He’d dawdled home from the marketplace
And lay in the beckoning grass.
He woke to find he was tightly bound
With a faery up on his chest,
She said, ‘Lock him in the cage as well,
Along with all of the rest.’

And Madge, the maid with a milking pail
Who was sent to milk the cow,
She’d wandered off on her way; she thought,
She needed to feed the sow.
She woke to mushrooms, ten feet tall
All towering over her head,
The stalks were bars, set under the stars
And her limbs, they felt like lead.

While Tim the Tinker was there as well
With his knives and sharpening tools,
His grindstone lay in a pile of hay
And the bonds on him were cruel.
The beggar lay in his filthy rags
While the rich man muttered, ‘Shame!’
He’d soiled his boots and his Regency suit,
Was bound with his watch and chain.

They lie not far from the caravans
Of a gypsy camping ground,
So Faeries say: ‘Let’s take them away
Before they’re seen and found!’
But dancing into the faery ring
Is the Gypsy, Mavourneen,
Who stumbles over the gilded cage
And steps on the Faery Queen.

The top flies off from the gilded cage,
The webs of the bars are torn,
And Garth crawls over the mushroom heads
To swear, ‘I feel reborn!’
The faeries weep as they carry their Queen
In death, to their Faery Dell,
There’s mushrooms still in that Faery Ring,
But now, Toadstools as well!

David Lewis Paget

Un-belonging
Undressed from teenage rhythm.
It’s a yearning for
The lost birds

Whose wings you rode
In talkless flight,
Til the silence got thicker
And woke up

Under the acupuncturist’s shadow.
And it needled it’s point as
Chinese wisdom, or as a well-meaning homeopath.
It dawdled all the same.

And you’re all sat right there.
Submurged. Happy as reflections.
Like an underwater photograph,
Mermaid’s song, gargles

Like the frog in my throat.
Almost Bauhaus, Picasso,
Almost watercolour, a mockingbird’s
Impression of a rock.

It was just
Undiagnosed sickness and I’m
Wading slowly into the sea with
my parents stones in my pocket.

"Mane, that girl's so fine,
I think
I might **** her," Heck laughs.

I don't know how the conversation
dawdled
to this.

I don't know where we came from.

But it's here now.

The bones are loose,
the mind is loose,
the lips are loose.

And we end up saying things
without knowing
that we're saying them.

We here ourselves talk,
and the hurt
is numb.

The cornflower blue fields rolled to the edge of the town,
Held lavender and sapphire incense,
Absent produce just steaming scents,
Nestled in a vast valley,
Between pillars of countless smokestacks,
Churning out great sleepy coughs,
There was a place of milk and honey active consistency,
Where the lulled townsfolk dawdled,
The corners of their eyes and mouths thinned,
Within passing minutes and shifts,
From one scape to the next,
Predetermined and provincial,
As the sleepy smoke rose so did the passengers,
After a long and tired trip,
Leveled, gathered, proceeded on,
The machine's hum ringing in the air,

Slowly the air moved,
The townspeople gathered in their huts,
They barricaded themselves inside,
Imprisoned their own lives,
Content to be slow and easy-going,
They feared the one,
The One that they dare not acknowledge,
He strolled informally,
Chaotically, they say, he once lived in the fields,
The one greeted the sleepy folk,
But they didn't trust him,
Once he had been like them,
Until one day the One looked around and became hysterical,

No one know what to do with the one so they ignored him,
Day after day turned into year after year,
Soon the blue mist that rose from the fields turned navy,
It dyed the walls and the machines and even the people,
They became statues of alabaster,
Seeming to move now only slightly each day,
The one became a blur,
An invisible spinning, chanting, living, teraphim,
The one had lived a thousand years,
In a comparable minute to the townsfolk,
He only hoped that he could help,
But they couldn't see him,
Their slumped eyes had grown accustomed to the dream.

To hold myself against myself is a habit of dark skin; scratching my olive palms across prickly cement. Take a bow in the mirror and see no reflection. Say you are reflected. Say something else. Say nothing. Those lucky charmed looks have spoiled your dying heart. Your intense desire for the forever lover has been dawdled. There, no one has discharged your respected, insubordination mind - they are too busy ******* the minds of cheap leached lips and tongue. It always was for that one special moment of feeling pleasure. Get used to fox fangs dragging you viciously through skeleton gravel. Get used to the skeleton. Have no fear of being contagious. Have knowing that I am insufficiently sediment. I want felicity again.

Pitter-patter;
     pelting peaking the poignant hearing of a peering, personable
     person.

Awakened she walks;
     waiting for water to weaken against the small windows,
     withering away.

Flourishing souls;
     stemming from spring came spitting droplets, refreshing flora.

Drab days;
      dead development dawdled by dreary dates - winter is gone.
    
Joyful cheers!
     Carrot's stones cherished close for colder days.

Winter disappears for departure.
    Spring reappears for resurgence.

It was a beautiful, and warm Monday afternoon.
Physically, the world felt in place
The sphere around her bore in serenity and tranquility
Except her mind.

She laid her body carelessly in a bed of a thousand lilacs,
Dawdled by thoughts
She was unready to explore her surroundings
But the world craved her undying attention
Unfocused, discomforted, content
The wind fleeted swiftly through her hair,
While the lilacs obscured her of pollen

She could hear everything, but simultaneously, nothing at all.
Too much or too little, it never seemed to be enough.
Just as she laid her head back on to the bed of lilacs
The wind danced in ******, tempting heed of her

It was a charming afternoon
Most would say,
But her mind danced along the brass of the wind,
rather than attending in curiosity  

Once again she laid her body back onto the bed of lilacs
Trying to comfort her discomforting thoughts
Finally
It was quite and her mind now felt at ease

Carefully, she listened to the wind
She didn’t miss a beat
The rhythm felt smooth—natural
Chills struck down her spin as the wind tackled through her tangled hair
Ironically, she felt at peace

A sudden shadow casted above her undistributed body
The lilacs comforted her in a way that her bed could not
The wind started to silence itself
Composure diminished from the realm of her thoughts

Quietly, she listened to the raspy and familiar voice that would not stop humming
In a chuckle he asked, “why are you laying in a bed of flowers?”
He didn’t even notice that they were lilacs
Flustered by his sudden appearance, she opened her eyes and realized that it was time to leave the garden
She stared at him for a moment before she actually responded
With a slight nervous laugh, she responded honestly “I don’t really know.”
Dazed and confused, she gathered her strength to stand up “It’s been a while...”
But before she could even finish her sentence,
The brassy wind started to chime
“Want to go grab some coffee?” he nervously said.

i fell down on your skin.
just before the mole hill on your wrist
the walk was bumpy, a bit creased.
And, well, I was looking more at you.
Anyway. Those tiny creases tripped me
on my travels i ended up stopping.
Stumbling right there, face down.
Sat for a bit in the chasm of your scars.
Dawdled. Happily. Very happily.
I did pull myself out, though,
i used the vines on your arm
you’re covered in them, all
soft. Something rest-your-head-on-able.
So that’s what i’ll do on my hike.
I’ll stay awhile.

The morning chill
came with a thin drizzle -
dipped in tea and
served with tobacco.

Nausea was gulped
down the throat for
breakfast - the back of
palm wiping the mouth.

Trapped in a brown
jacket and your green
eyes, I felt a sudden urge
to ask you to follow me

to a place I had reserved
solely for your arrival which
sometimes smells of coffee
brewing in the morning.

The urge to approach you
was strong, and yet 
I did not, for this morning
the sky shared an intimate

kiss with the clouds and it
began to pour - people routed
indoors and you quickly took
resolved steps, covering

your head with a diary,
the front of which had
a picture of two flowers
nudging each other.

Boys in warm sweaters
and girls in knitted scarfs
carelessly dawdled around 
as I walked back home, alone.

I got my favorite motto from a little avacado
Green is good, brown is bad, the pit is hard to swallow
We can drown in bottles
The good Snows' always yellow
And my Molly's always coddled
Got a Tab at the bar so I went home and thought I dawdled
Woke up hulking in a schoolbus dropped the wheel and hit the throttle
they ask me why I am the way that I am, aristotle
I reply why the ***** the world have to be so monochrome and awful?
And we just lie to ourselves, that what we find in this hell
Makes all the suffering that we endure all worthwhile well
**** that
Before you kiill yourself
they say call me up
it's 1 800
No one gives give a ****

A red kite passed between the sun and I
momentarily delighting with its shadow,
a shrill cry launched at an empty sky, happy

Hot creosote of neighbours fences
smelt of care and the eighties
while my own untreated panels bleached

By the stream, illegal fishermen dawdled
while the world chose not to care
and for now this snow globe held unshook

I used to picture you
with a voice oscillating like ocean water, casting words
as nets on a surface shimmering effervescent green.
And even the handful of stars outside dawdled just
a while longer to see the fish rise up and wink
out in the morning sun, scales slipping together
the way clay lips slot against coral white heart-cages
and curved, ivory xylophones patterned like shadows
and gold strips of sun. Everything quivers; we are only a
cosmic moment singing aubades, horsehair and rosin falling
like shooting stars against mahogany and warm steel, origami
folded bed, redefined by sharp angles and all the ways I am not afraid.
When we rise to sleep, pressed sable will drip down
and the air will be rimmed with the sea salt tang of dried coffee.

we waited for each other on the corner
of the fever dream street at the border
our bus passed by but it was out of order
that's okay cause i know a way that's shorter

as we dawdled along the shorter route
so engrossed in each other like we're glued
talking about the tv shows that we viewed
and the sweetness of all the snacks that we chewed

the tide goes on and on and
i hope it doesn't stop and
i cherish every second and
i wish we could drift through this ice cream paradise forever
and

the tide goes on and on and on and
we're swept up by the waves and
we're taken someplace new and
we're carried slowly through this ice cream paradise together
and

i feel you on my arm as we watched the skies
stood in awe and secretly hoping one of us cries
protecting each other from our bored sighs
knowing we're in this together until our demise

then we made it back to your place, loving
the time we spent together, memories preserving
we spent six months in the front room, laughing
and collaging all our dreams together, photographing

later you laid me to bed and told me what i knew
and i still teared up cause it's coming from you
the sweet words you utter shine with a rainbow hue
and then we end another day by saying "i love you, i do"

i wish we could drift through this ice cream paradise forever
i hope we can drift through this ice cream paradise forever
i know we will drift through this ice cream paradise forever
i wish we could drift through this ice cream paradise forever

I made my first move soon as the traffic lights turned green.
Ran after you for I was following my heart.
You were with your friends enjoying your girls night out, when their faces turned to mine and they took me for a thief because  i was all sweaty and dressed in rugs
Somehow you ignored them and listened to me when I asked you to.
We dawdled by the river side in the silence of the leaves adorably, sat by the river side admiring the stars and how the waters glinted with light.
Talking and laughing infectiously,
I saw perfection in you as I was already falling for you
I was desperate to make you mine that's why I sang you your favorite song.
I believed that day my life would be whole again.
A happier one than  before for I saw it in your eyes  
Unfortunately,  the wind of change passed by and carried you along without a goodbye
Was it an illusion that gave me those butterflies?

Tell me that you're dying
And I'll say it must be Tuesday
You've got a pocket full of holes again

And there's nothing in the sunset
Makes me think that I'd believe you
When you're walking 'cross my path again

Hey, it's been ages since we've talked, you know
Lives have started, stopped, and dawdled on
And I'm not the one you met so long ago
I'm not the one you lost or need
So hello, familiar stranger
Hello, hello, goodbye

You tell me that you miss me
And I say, "grab a phone book,
find the number that I never, ever changed"

You say, "absence makes you fonder"
But I've been absent most my life
And there's nothing from that that I've ever gained

It's been ages since we've talked, you know
Lives have started, stopped, and carried on
And I'm not the one you loved so long ago
I'm not the one you lost or need
So goodbye familiar stranger
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Amy ant ambled but
Bobby baboon bounced ‘cuz
Cathy cat caterwauled as
Dougie dog dawdled then
Ellie eel embarked while
Freddie falcon flew–
Gerald grasshopper gamboled and
Harold J. Harold hare hopped!
Izzy iguana immigrated.
Jessie June bug jumped when
Katie kangaroo kicked-it with
Larry lizard leaping left because
Moe marmoset merely meandered.
Norbert numbat just sat.
Ophelia oyster oozed while
Peter penguin paddled and
Quinton quail quivered but
Rosy raccoon ran 'cuz
Sasha salamander sashayed!
Tariq turtle tumbled as
Uooley urchin ushered
Vinny the vulture to visit
Wally walrus who waddled with
Xander xerus through the xystux;
Yasha yak yacked it up to
Zooey zebra who zipped it to:

The All-Species-Day-Parade!
And EVERY ALL had tons of fun!

In a garden of rosary pea I do lie, a gentle wind-
There to perish, I softly swirl- yearning release-
From undying grief brought by a season, mad in nature
-A cold cold that slain the snowy lilies, my only love
A parallel of roses once swirled, I deeply- too
That nurtured from earth where buried
-But roses, *****- loved the sun, the sun alone
And hast, say no whiff for my bottomless fill
Ah, then- when the sun, its angst has bore
Then its tongue over the roses bloom, lapped
And leave a burnt, a shriveled to, in shame
I came then again, hurrying to the -roses aid,
To bury, free from the suns – mortifications
Here, along this unrequited where daily wandered
Came my snowy lilies- neath some flowering almond
They - dawdled lonelily and shyly there,
That upon there look their thoughts were written
And beck, I softly sang and made them dance
And swirling, filled here bottomless with fragrance
-Four seasons slept and woke- but in love, a jiff
When with, in my watch and air, their ***** lie
Heard whispers, of colds- love to a jasmine
Whom when touched by- a cypress came
And of its love then to a dahlia that red pour-
And in their ***** where lie, I did feel
Echoes its ire that made the sun frost than a moon
And allowed under some aspen tree-’ its ire thrive
For not a fair flower bare a desire, dreading it
-Nurturing its foul and hatred for all that was loved
And all that was loved, it spats its venom-
And none was loved than my snowy lilies
And none was festered than my snowy lilies
-Now shredded, perished a death by me-
Than be frozen in colds embrace from reach
I, in a garden of rosary pea do lie, the gentle wind
There pleading, weary- to go where my lilies came

I could not help the thought
As I dawdled for a minute
Considering what we have lost
I know we could have made it
Had we gone around that bend
Sometimes I can’t help wonder where we’d be
If only now was then

If only now was then
If only there was time
To go back to yesterday
When I was yours
And you were mine

At least we had our love
At least we really tried
To take our magic to the end
I’ve carried it inside
From all the way back when
Sometimes I can’t help wonder where we’d be
If only now was then

If only now was then
If only there was time
To go back to yesterday
When I was yours
And you were mine

If only, if only, if only, if only
Today was yesterday

like a beef and bean burrito
till you drew blood like
a mosquito. So, wrapped up
as a babe swaddled, till the years

with you dawdled. Wrapped
as a caterpillar in her chrysalis, I didn't
emerge as a butterfly. I was stricken
with syphilis. I couldn't wrap my head

around all of this. His sweet kisses
turned into hisses. I was wrapped as
a broken arm in a sling. I couldn't move
in this self-effacing fling. So, I cut

the appendage. And I hung back
suspended. Now I'm more like a dowel
than a wet paper towel.

It was a Saturday,
the 16th i guess.
The last time
you held me in your arms
so safe and sound
like you wouldn't let go
Even if the strongest force on earth
Were to try and part us
As you gently stroked
The curls of my freshly washed hair
watching the summer zephyr fly by
As we dawdled around
One last time
Until the next last time
Waiting for the rain to bless us
With all those memories again
that were now etched in
those paths we used to travel upon.
And like all the previous farewells,
You said your bit once again
And i shed a tear or two
as we both said our saccharine goodbyes
And i forgot to gift you your letter away
The one i had handcrafted
to be one of the souvenirs
of our little rendezvous we had from time to time,
unaware, that that may be the last one ever.

It was a Saturday,
The 16th i guess.
A year had passed by
And your name still came out of my mouth
Like the sweetest honey dripping out
While i mindlessly shared conversations about you
To the strangers out there in the wild
as they told me to stop loving you,
that i could only love so much
till it consumes me
In its unfair nature.
But oh darling,
If you only knew
It was your love that kept me going
On the most difficult of my days,
As i stared at that letter i never gave you
Long enough for your ghost
to come by and soothe me
with a voice so tranquil
One so similar to yours.
And oh darling ,
If you only knew
That i looked for your love
in our hackneyed texts
And your one word replies
a love that never existed
But seemed so real to me
That it became a drug
I would devour
every second of every day.

It’s a Saturday.
Saturday the 16th.
It has been 2 years
since i have last thought about
Your pearl like pretty eyes
and a smile so warm-
Just Like those homemade brownies
I used to bake for myself
Every time you left me heartbroken
As i ate away the pain
Till I could eat no more.
And oh darling,
It’s time i finally tell you
That today is the last time
I Ever think about you,
That you no longer remain my idol
The one i looked up to for love
Because i’ve found someone better,
And that better is me.
So now i say my final goodbyes
As i remove you
from my ‘favourites’ list
And block your number
So i'm not constantly reminded
Of what could've been
And write out my future,
Of what it will be,
Without you.

- happy

i)

F sharp
was her
favourite

mine
is
E flat

worlds away
night to day
i called

i said,
E flat?
she´d say

F sharp!
i dawdled,
she flew

forward
and back
i thought

she did
she did nt..
i said

G flat!?!
but the
retort-was

(inevitable-)
D sharp..
(i

should have
known)
we had no-

common
but,
love..

ii)

her laugh
F sharp
mine

E flat
she said
that´s funny

i said
not really
i stayed

quiet
(in E flat)
she told

an allegorical
tale
of faith

and loss
she asked
you know what

i call that?
i said,
let me guess

nothing in
common
but love..?

iii)

we met
one food fast
day

She said,
i know
your an E flat-?!

i can always
tell!
(another one..)

so,
began
our sojourn

in hell..
who paid
we split it..

tbc..

.day 11.

we have lockdown here as you may know
it came last evening at 8.30, his knuckles
white,

john phoned me then to say he cannot visit
as planned with me at the upstairs window
him in the garden below

so i ordered the things online
like the paint that arrived
yesterday

‘happy yellow’ i gasped on opening
at how a colour can affect mood

a good name & i felt it so
that the doors will approve

later on the walk they dawdled up in front
stopped at all the turnings studying their
phones

in my delay i saw the birds nesting
the river running clean before they

went
and i
did my one
daily walk
now

with power

good to get
out

there has been too much order in
those tidy drawings so i used the
carbon again with looking away

they came random
slightly wistful i feel

my neighbour knocked at the back
so i opened and reversed down the
long library hall to talk loud from afar

he talked sense
but wondered
if they were hyping
it all up

still waking early
with the day fully
ahead and clear