When did he think
he was possible?
why did he
twitch at
the ray of light?
why did he blink
to the sound of voices?
how will he cry out
where no mercy dares echo?
who taught him to believe in Life
when he was not wanted?
Who will tell him as he awaits to breathe?
Renewed from 2012
Look beyond the matted hide
silent & still
slippery & warm
it lays gone.
The bones gleam
Pristine white.
There is no more fight.
But what remains?
A luxuriously soft weight
see how its essence still
pulsates…
A sweet sensuous secret
Plays upon my lips
How I delight in holding it close to me
Softly whispering
in between your sweet kisses
That I’ll never tell.
Just one drop
Lick it clean
Dribble the last drip
Upon your cloying tongue
Swallow it with pride
Like you drank its remnants gratefully
Suck your teeth
Run your tongue around your lips
Don’t let that go to waste
Just that one last drop
Don’t let it go to waste
You know better than to believe
His lies
But sometimes you want to.
Renewed 2016
let me reach out
and touch upon a word…
a word that lets you share
that which i feel
But fails to tell
how it scars the soul
why should you not know how it feels?
bitter tears shared have a sweetness all of their own…
and however Love may be praised
it too grows jealous
of not being felt the same by all.
A Selection of the background score to the movie “Azaghi” by Ilayaraja
2012
The ants continue to swarm
colluding, confiding
in whatever it is that’s rotting.
Something still awaits to
announce itself
its stench is lost to me.
Do they know of their doom?
of the broom that looms?
their scattered demise in one fall swoop?
A fatal brush,
A bristled death.
I look away
let them crawl away
let their beady bodies
cluster in writhing clues.
it will only get better
more happiness, more peace, more bliss
more of that oft searched forgetfulness
you can refuse anytime you want
now, later, tomorrow,
did you not refuse yesterday?
then do just quit another day
you deserve it
for sure you do
i know you do
just once then
last time
the very last time
i will not ask again
ever
this is the last time
ever
what is there to be worried about?
what consequence?
what isn’t without consequence?
+
one life to live
one addiction to relive
find relief now
find reprieve
no other way
Counting down
the stations
what
cold
familiarity
lies just ahead…
worn stone walls and ruddy dull bricks
pasty grey buildings and squashed squat houses
tarmac, rails and blurs of brightly branded trains
the odd garish squiggle of graffiti
cows, sheep, horses, goats
their fellows caught in a yellow repetitious graze
along a lazy scene
too mellow to change
so inconsiderate of my
awkwardness
reading signs is dangerous
they encourage rules
without obedience
imaging truth
with fictional forms
disregarding supervision
of
perilous navigation
just look at what this one says…
idyllic life filmed through?
leaves us what intermissions to think and do?
gives us what songs left to sing to?
leaves us what mystery to live to?
and when the credits are all set and due…
what will our uncut lives and unsolved ways seem
as we set ourselves up for an unpracticed view?
intotheindigo 