Thursday 27 September 2012

Poems/ Streams of thought



The sweet cream
The succulent dream
Forcing free those taste buds in me

Beyond the clouds
The sea, the mounds,
I awake and see a crumpled face
A distant place I can’t erase

Let us be
Let us see
Let us swim and float and silently scream
So we are heard not by ears
But by touch, by a hand
That holds itself up
Palm upturned, fingers burned
In anticipation

So fierce, so true
What’s real is glue
We stand, we sing
We hum in the wind
Bringing and bringing
Bearing our children
Like baskets of fruit

Too it too woo
The owl eschews
Little dew bits of drool
Hungry like the wolf
Plentiful pack

How does the moon provide
The waves of the tide
That silver pride
To hide behind
For centuries women beg at its doorstep
Wanting release
And peace from the beast
Wandering free
The sand on their knees
Whisper to me
Your pain as you bleed

When will there be loss
Without too much a fuss

_________________________________________________



Promise me once
I flee from the town,
Disappear from the crowd,
You still say my name
With that tongue of gold
And a look in your eye
Centuries old
Repeated in you-
In us-
Now new

Promise me when
I see you again
The lemon is sweet
I dread regret,
Remorse, and their friends
This can not be the end
This will not be the end

Promise me
My love, my friend
That hours can pass
Unseen and unheard
Our whispering words
Just an echo
At last, so fast,
This kiss is our last

_______________________________________________



I fail to see
Nothing in me
A substance can rise
A strengthening tide
Take me from behind
I said, I pled,
I begged with my eyes
Force me to see
Force me to be
I lack the concrete touch
Of those who succeed
Wherever I press
My hand to the nest
(your hand to my breast)
Makes me feel less
Of a woman,
A soul,
One with a hole
Broken and slashed
Am I empty or full?


__________________________________________________________


Pressure is rising
As the clock faces itself
Questioning-
Do we travel forwards or are we in fact
Stagnant in the cold
Forcing ourselves old
While our cells go round-
Goldfish on land
Presented with facts
Are we humans or rats
Do we mention what hides
In our insides
In our intestines
We test, we find
A loveless ride


_______________________________________________________________


Sub-human
I drink lemon and honey
The sharp tones, the sweet moans
The steam and cup
Sitting so stuck

In the hearth of home
I rest my bones
So weary and old-
My mind can’t afford
Such disregard
And late night rises

Shutting lids
I have delayed fatigue
Wandering free, I watch from afar
Rage, jealousy
Ingrained in me

The others they stand,
Beauty in hand,
From the West land-
Baggy trousers and flowers

I crunched my teeth hard
Without care
For my friends, for optimism;
I had nothing to share

Twisting hardness so it radiates
Blue-
I stare and stare inwards
I’d rather be blind than see such ugliness again
The unwillingness to breathe
And ride the breeze
Seems to be
An impossibility-
See?


__________________________________________________________



The mirror:
You see but you can’t pinpoint
There is truth
But I lose sight
A mirage in the desert
The familiar grain
Etching and binding
A coherent face

The eyebrows
The collarbones
Which sit horizontally
Unattached
From skin’s disguise
The small mouth
Pursed and sulking
The tilted head

I play for my own audience

The mirror:
A necessity, a luxury
The death of mystery






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