The Morning of your Departure
I don't believe the whispered purple of the day
The shrieking mouth of uncouth sunlight: a stifled light-year away
And if I live coloured-in green letters through constraints of lines
I won't be found by scowling wrists of time.
If I am still and construct the essence of a dreamland here
The pseudonym of reality will cease to interfere.
One Night Stand
Inside my meandering mask of surety,
I'm quivering at the uncut nails
As fog descends on lustrous April nights
Outside my bedroom window.
It is someone's daughter's room;
A package I am attempting lackadaisically to refill
With my polystyrene overflowing words.
It's slow, it's steady
In thirteen thousand nerves.
It's a recipe; it isn't tasteful, perhaps,
But like sure cement on bricks, we grip the walls.
Eye contact as the humid breaths of spring
Leave soft bathing waters on transparent windows
Shielded only by the ragged remainders of an innocent child.
I held, like a buttercup, a ship in a bottle
Those types you get on cruises
But I lost it like the slinking thoughts that come to mind.
Every definition has a flipside,
Has a twist, a snaking contortion in sweaty hand-covered voices.
Too much reflection brings with it the ricochets
Of substantiality fading into a knowledgeable glitter;
Laid bare and cracked through rustling wrappers,
You gaze to see this no longer affects your statutor
I lived amongst the long, oppressive palm trees on an island
Sometimes I climbed the sandy banks
And watched the twinkling lights of skyscrapers send me friendly thoughts
But never would I descend for fear of savages.
I walked amongst the people--
Just one hundred--
Living in the same place as me
And we pressed our glassy fingers up to invisible walls
Miming lost escapism in a rusted metal sea.
One day I fell in love with a dog.
I knew it was wrong but I stared into the depths of droning darkness
And saw my future.
His clumsy loyalty endeared me
And when we walked on the edge of shallow waters
I sometimes thought those buildings might house gods, or devils--
Or other mystical things.
It was just a thought.
We had hybrid children; they were ridiculed and cast away
I would watch them play on the banks,
So distorted and surreal,
And wonder really if they were the work of Satan.
When they came to me, crying useless, malformed shadows of words
I would turn away and a
Teetering on Brinks of Sense
Oh, how I've missed you, my darling
How I've missed your gnawing soul
How I've missed those lucid eyes
That superficial cold.
How I've missed the way I could stare upon
The epitome of all I hated
(All I envied)
How I miss the bittersweet death of simplicity.
Bono malum superate?
For the life of me I cannot remember I cannot.
The introduction of everything that
Made me a conspicuous chameleon
In my own home.
I know you are already I know you are you disgust me
But less the more so.
Oh my dear obsession, how you squeezed the unwilling teardrops from my dry eyes
How you invaded me with bloody mirages
And how I miss that forked tongue cleansing my white bones
And sliding fingers on ravaged skin.
(Tearing away the purity)
The innocence within.
I miss the excruciating
Hand gripping the window bloodstains dragging
Morbidity of the way
So still it was almost necrophilia.
Do you miss the time I forced your chin up to the stars?
We're all going to join the army.
Hanging from the branches
Of bigger dreams
The cumulus smudges across the sky beckon us;
With hyperbolic grins, we announce
It like a party trick
I'm going to join the army
Be like those ones on TV
Those ones with the big guns
Peeled-back grins of the examiners
Revealing jagged pins
The rush of blood to the head.
The summer sun streaming in,
Flinging itself across the polished floor to land
Upon my outstretched hand.
Lives far from this containment
And now I press my ghostly, outstretched fingers on indifferent walls
Whitewashed, you can hear the cold, pulsating heart of death
Working its gleeful way under these floors.
And now a sadomasochistic streak raises its leering head
And tiny box windows look out on concrete grey
To keep our claustrophobia at bay.
(Left, right, left, right)
Robotic precision. Perfection.
I still remember the remnants of glory throu
The Nature of This Family Feud
The first day at school pales into insignificance
Beside a concrete cavity where we play
And, retching on my own happiness,
I venture where my mother told me to stay away.
(That same nausea comes back to me on a random autumn day.)
The black clouds balanced, sagging
Over branches of trees
Ready to be grasped
And scraping our young knees we chase them fast.
(He's not my real brother.)
My mother never told me there'd be things to fear in darkness
So my nightmares lived in mouse-holes instead.
And I slept soundly in my bed.
(They always hid the reasons for my protection)
Stale gravestones in a translucent reflection.
Walking free beside the road
Tied to the pavement
By the maturity in my laces
I watch others' faces behind my commercial mask.
(It happens all the time.)
The steam rising off dry ice
Was the look in his eyes
When I walked along the garden wall in bare feet.