M&M

M&M
(Written July 3, 2011, at 10:31 pm.)

There's something in the air tonight.
The stars are out of sight,
Shrouded by clouds.
Malbec and Marlboro,
My favourite M&M.
Is someone watching me?
Can anyone read the thoughts
Of a shattered soul
Peeking through an empty face?

In Conversation with a Friend (1)

In Conversation with a Friend (1)
(Written in the course of a WhatsApp chat on June 18, 2011, around 1:00 am.)

Sound blocks thought, and thought blocks action,
Action is life's painfullest fraction.
Silence weighs heavy like lead on a vein,
And veins, when cut, can cut the pain.

Much TV to be watched, much brain to be ground,
Much love to be missed, much pain to be found.
Much Maggi to be eaten, much alcohol to be drank,
Much life to be forgiven, much death to be thanked.
Much red in my eyes, much black in my thought,
Much redness and blackness to be valiantly fought.
Much red in my thought, much black in my eyes,
Much blackness and redness in swallowed cries.

So many words, and yet not enough,
Poetry's most blasphemous bluff.
So many words, most kind, some rough,
So much life, all taut, all tough.
So many things and so much stuff,
Death bleached off life's white cuff.

Risking a fall is for those on the mound.
What fall to risk for those underground?

As much can be hidden as can fit in the soul.
Even light can't escape a blackhole.

5 more bottles and a carton to go,
A future to shed and a past to grow.
A present to wither and a moment to die,
A forever to be and a never to lie.

Rain (2)

Rain (2)
(Written June 17, 2011, 6:27 pm.)

I want lightning, I want thunder,
I want rain and wish and wonder.

I want drops of hollow love,
To crash and pillage and plunder.

I want soggy, drenched hearts
To unbreak in blissful blunder.

I want the watered blue of you
To swallow me torn asunder.

Rain

Rain
(Written June 11, 2011, around 6:00 pm.)

And suddenly,
I became aware of the rain on my own face.
A drop on my cheek,
A drop on my lip.
And I thought...
Would you even notice?
Would I be beautiful to you in the rain?
Was I ever?
Does a raindrop on my lip mean anything to you?
What about a raindrop on hers?

Parts of You

(Written April 19, 2011, 11:30 pm.)

Do you remember the parts of you
You forgot to take as your hurried out?
I keep them on my window sill,
People often ask what they're all about.

I smile and cringe and smile and say,
They're mine for just these moments few,
You'll be back to claim them any day
To give them to someone new.

Some of me is drowning in wine.
A little of you is still mine.
And the more the wine gets through,
The less I think I have of you.

Sometimes when I'm looking away,
I could swear the sill slowly moves.
And I wonder then if my mind's at play,
And I wonder if some of you disapproves

That I still talk to the tiny slivers
Of you that you left behind,
That I still breathe the slightest shivers
Of things no longer in your mind.

So while some of me drowns in wine,
I know a little of you is still mine.
And I shudder as the wine gets through,
At giving up that little, too.

Silver

(Written April 16, 2011, 4:00 am.)

I want to eat silver,
and chew on a grain of the past.
I want thought to end,
and never to forever last.

I want to bite into dust,
and split every grain.
I want a tactile welcome
into the essence of pain.

I want to consume the air,
so soggy with wet shattered dreams.
I want the nullity of life
to be as dense as it sometimes seems.

I want to swallow beauty,
and fade into a silent tick.
I want a second, a minute, an hour,
and a cruel merciful temporal trick.

I want the light you breathe
to be what I always see.
I want the kiss of your teeth
to be the final stroke of me.

Broken and Swimming

(Written April 16, 2011, 12:30 am.)

broken and swimming
in pieces.
a mind floating passively
to the smoky abyss of the future.
a heart struggling to return
to the shore of the past.
each breath paid for
from a finite resource of bubbles
that rise
to the surface of the present.

broken and swimming
in little pieces.
a void carried along
by the current.
a memory of existence surging,
fighting,
by a fraying thread.
something like desire
trying to discover itself.

broken and swimming
in infinite particles.
the sand and the sea
lost
in each other.