Friday, 25 May 2007

Poem 9

tell me, what was the point of it all?
the fuzz and the thrill of methodically collect
precious unique things
creating layers of amazeness
never give away, never lend, never let go
stash in boxes, pile in corners, cover from dust.
a labour of love, threadbare from impulse
a fĂȘte turned fester, carving fast
inside it rebels, aghast by lost wander
the gentle candour of an empty triangle
a life built around sweets and treats
retain your possessions, a coup d’etat of the heart
no fall from grace, no elegance, no ethics
only a small trace of failure taken aback
by the smooth sound of the tide

Poem 8

for you i resign my power
it is one thing or the other, not both
no, not both. so sadly one can not have both...
in the orange stripped roller-coaster
the simplest of things, so hard to spell
a sly fellow swirls around the flowerless magnolia
i rise, my hands on your hips, a drowning stare
the vast sky broken by tv antennas and concrete facades
just the other day i have heard you, laughing for her
i was there, in the other room
nicely throwing away your books
a slow burn turned inwards, look at me
can you see it? is it there, under the cupboard?
obvious as a cat tail out of the door
being the quiet spec­tator in the background has no other meaning but to keep
an overwhelming urge under restrain