The finger tips on your hands arouse ice cold rivulets in my thighs.
You tell me it is because you traveled far to release my flesh.
So where is your warmth and lust of life that I saw aboard your ride?
You turn away and back to rip my bosom from its sheath of cloth.
All my vulnerability is open and taut standing attentive to you.
You have hidden your essence deep beneath Siberian caves, it can only be so.
Hindsight shows you for the fallacious beast, the arctic fox without a den.
Yes I still aim my body towards yours, throw my heart out so it bleeds.
The chill from your extremities excites my veins through to their core
An ice broken, shattered storm, fallen from the highest heights, I know mine.
The purest thing is to bend and mend and heal that craving from within.
Rape my body and throw it to the side and leave me lusting for more.
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Said the thief
The secret life of life (working title)
You hate thieves and spit at their feet.
But I have swum in the bay of Bengal.
I am not seen when I walk down the street.
Though I will be the only one who helps your mother when she falls.
Disgusted faces will be worn by your friends,
when I clear the table of your cold money.
You can't know me because you are not me.
You have learned to read words, not people.
Lightness of foot carries me on and off trains
We are both at the top of our game.
Yet still you try to pity me, so I steal
from your deep and stupid pocket
Because you too are too ignorant to
recognise that I have lived
and seen far more of the world than you.
You hate thieves and spit at their feet.
But I have swum in the bay of Bengal.
I am not seen when I walk down the street.
Though I will be the only one who helps your mother when she falls.
Disgusted faces will be worn by your friends,
when I clear the table of your cold money.
You can't know me because you are not me.
You have learned to read words, not people.
Lightness of foot carries me on and off trains
We are both at the top of our game.
Yet still you try to pity me, so I steal
from your deep and stupid pocket
Because you too are too ignorant to
recognise that I have lived
and seen far more of the world than you.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Ares
The fast paced youth drove on the black town
painting his lusty masterpiece of trust
still proud as the cock of crows.
He did preach to protégé
‘see the townsmen, stiff as the walls surround’
He fancied a different fate, why draft?
Who could guide him and thrive, no longer hide?
Beasts rave on, scratched, red up his back.
Family lapsed bearing cross his tree snapped.
The pendulum would not make him throw down.
On hand, specious, far from depressed.
Born in arms he had been caressed.
A task attained in happiness found
a cool concrete core. He crashed car and kid.
Affinity wound up smashed in spare parts.
The burnt soul walked free, to turn of age,
to drink and smoke his mothers heart thirsty.
The river blood burst, but his eyes were closed.
‘From what source did you loose your eyes’ she cried.
‘Hark’ he cursed mocking his mothers tears.
‘Preach of self worth, but you too are broken
the black spider spins her web strong and
you are not the fly who flew from Mars.’
The public house would no longer take him.
The curbs and foxgloves whispered through dusk hours.
‘I didn’t want this solvent rodent path’
The city coughed accepting concession.
He could not drink to drive her away.
A slug found his shell, a new black spider
spun the next web and hands lifted pave stones.
Two children he fathered in a haze
arrived though arms open the guts beheld.
Raised eyebrows softened with kneading down.
Tea became lunch became summers day,
he realised that cardboard was ok.
Gasoline ran his clock, zero was his hour.
Soul and body failed to catch the hand.
Daughters now found white wall for their heads.
Fantasy told them he knew they were there.
Grieving for justice to grow them a branch.
painting his lusty masterpiece of trust
still proud as the cock of crows.
He did preach to protégé
‘see the townsmen, stiff as the walls surround’
He fancied a different fate, why draft?
Who could guide him and thrive, no longer hide?
Beasts rave on, scratched, red up his back.
Family lapsed bearing cross his tree snapped.
The pendulum would not make him throw down.
On hand, specious, far from depressed.
Born in arms he had been caressed.
A task attained in happiness found
a cool concrete core. He crashed car and kid.
Affinity wound up smashed in spare parts.
The burnt soul walked free, to turn of age,
to drink and smoke his mothers heart thirsty.
The river blood burst, but his eyes were closed.
‘From what source did you loose your eyes’ she cried.
‘Hark’ he cursed mocking his mothers tears.
‘Preach of self worth, but you too are broken
the black spider spins her web strong and
you are not the fly who flew from Mars.’
The public house would no longer take him.
The curbs and foxgloves whispered through dusk hours.
‘I didn’t want this solvent rodent path’
The city coughed accepting concession.
He could not drink to drive her away.
A slug found his shell, a new black spider
spun the next web and hands lifted pave stones.
Two children he fathered in a haze
arrived though arms open the guts beheld.
Raised eyebrows softened with kneading down.
Tea became lunch became summers day,
he realised that cardboard was ok.
Gasoline ran his clock, zero was his hour.
Soul and body failed to catch the hand.
Daughters now found white wall for their heads.
Fantasy told them he knew they were there.
Grieving for justice to grow them a branch.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
The thief and the trickster - reviesed
Spit on a thieves
feet to show
them how you care
little for the fare.
Play cards, deal,
teach a boy
a lesson.
You do not
know he is a thief.
A thief is he
who shares his spares
and cares.
His winning hand
disgusted. Tight.
Clothe yourself
and he, for he
can take all
straight from
your hand.
Stay up straight
feel the liquor burn.
Do not have haste,
thriving little teeth.
One, two, three,
no four, keep up he
says you'll never
learn if you don't take your turn.
The smile seems wry
and taught, limpness
eyes drag you down.
Hoist your chin, lest
Lest you see,
you shall and now you
have missed it, pay up
the trickster has won.
feet to show
them how you care
little for the fare.
Play cards, deal,
teach a boy
a lesson.
You do not
know he is a thief.
A thief is he
who shares his spares
and cares.
His winning hand
disgusted. Tight.
Clothe yourself
and he, for he
can take all
straight from
your hand.
Stay up straight
feel the liquor burn.
Do not have haste,
thriving little teeth.
One, two, three,
no four, keep up he
says you'll never
learn if you don't take your turn.
The smile seems wry
and taught, limpness
eyes drag you down.
Hoist your chin, lest
Lest you see,
you shall and now you
have missed it, pay up
the trickster has won.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Old Hope - an idea from a conversation
2. Richmond Dryad
As the sun still rode
amongst the bark in the hollow
deep inside her truck
sat with the shaman. Shaman?
In a dead tree. No,
She was not dead, she grew leaves.
And we sat inside her, in the hole.
He chanted his verse all to hear
He was loud and we followed.
We asked and we laughed
willing her spirit to give us faith,
then I slept immersed within her folds.
Our lust for greatness
came thrust upon us from the city.
A moment in touch with old selves
elusive and just, we were in control.
Please dear dryad, help us be vast?
Departed and gone, I did
return years later she was there.
Still strong and I shallow, both burnt to the core.
We cackled long into the night.
A tree is a tree, alive
and not dead, but she cant change
what goes on in the beyond.
1.
I sat in a hollow tree with a shaman
if that is what he was.
To ask the dead tree for help
she wasn't totally dead, true
she had leaves.
But there was a hole big enough to sit in.
He chanted his verse all to hear
He was loud and we followed.
We asked and we laughed
willing her spirit to give us faith
Then I slept within her folds.
Departed and gone, I did
return years later she was there.
Still strong and hollow and I
cackled long into the night.
A tree is a tree, alive
and not dead, but she cant change
what goes on beyond.
As the sun still rode
amongst the bark in the hollow
deep inside her truck
sat with the shaman. Shaman?
In a dead tree. No,
She was not dead, she grew leaves.
And we sat inside her, in the hole.
He chanted his verse all to hear
He was loud and we followed.
We asked and we laughed
willing her spirit to give us faith,
then I slept immersed within her folds.
Our lust for greatness
came thrust upon us from the city.
A moment in touch with old selves
elusive and just, we were in control.
Please dear dryad, help us be vast?
Departed and gone, I did
return years later she was there.
Still strong and I shallow, both burnt to the core.
We cackled long into the night.
A tree is a tree, alive
and not dead, but she cant change
what goes on in the beyond.
1.
I sat in a hollow tree with a shaman
if that is what he was.
To ask the dead tree for help
she wasn't totally dead, true
she had leaves.
But there was a hole big enough to sit in.
He chanted his verse all to hear
He was loud and we followed.
We asked and we laughed
willing her spirit to give us faith
Then I slept within her folds.
Departed and gone, I did
return years later she was there.
Still strong and hollow and I
cackled long into the night.
A tree is a tree, alive
and not dead, but she cant change
what goes on beyond.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
re-write 3 of Magpie poem - editing is key
Magpie I beseech thee!
A quick salute
suspicious, you see.
The magpie swoops
above the roof.
Where is your
partner, dear magpie?
Remove your sorrow,
leave my world.
The washing is hung.
The children gone.
Why make me clear
all this away?
You think my litter
will keep your mate.
Materialism,
I know my fate.
Chiseled coins,
chincy wrappers
seen in your eye.
Please, be at bay!
Where is your
partner, dear magpie?
Cackle less, you
might hear her cry.
Try to mock me
from in my yew tree.
I’ll have my
treasure back.
See this there and
that. They are mine!
Where is your
partner, dear magpie?
Is it not ample
to dance on my roof?
That you must grill
me when I’m calm?
Look! We may part
For there, aloft
upon the roof is she;
your blue and white mate.
A quick salute
suspicious, you see.
The magpie swoops
above the roof.
Where is your
partner, dear magpie?
Remove your sorrow,
leave my world.
The washing is hung.
The children gone.
Why make me clear
all this away?
You think my litter
will keep your mate.
Materialism,
I know my fate.
Chiseled coins,
chincy wrappers
seen in your eye.
Please, be at bay!
Where is your
partner, dear magpie?
Cackle less, you
might hear her cry.
Try to mock me
from in my yew tree.
I’ll have my
treasure back.
See this there and
that. They are mine!
Where is your
partner, dear magpie?
Is it not ample
to dance on my roof?
That you must grill
me when I’m calm?
Look! We may part
For there, aloft
upon the roof is she;
your blue and white mate.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Vanity
'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity saith the preacher' Eceles 1:2
Preachers scream at passers by.
Young girls steal lipstick in their purse.
Lads stroll together blowing smoke
Vain is as vain does
when he prances own the street.
Vain is as vain does
the girls tighten their coats.
Children scream for more
Fathers hide in the apple mac store
Whilst grandmother slips a shirt
in her purse.
Vain is as vain does from
from birth to death
through and through
and round next door!
Preachers scream at passers by.
Young girls steal lipstick in their purse.
Lads stroll together blowing smoke
Vain is as vain does
when he prances own the street.
Vain is as vain does
the girls tighten their coats.
Children scream for more
Fathers hide in the apple mac store
Whilst grandmother slips a shirt
in her purse.
Vain is as vain does from
from birth to death
through and through
and round next door!
The thief and the trickster
Spit on a thieves
feet to show
them how you care
little for the fare.
Play cards
teach a boy
a lesson.
You do not
know he is a thief.
A thief is he
who shares
and cares.
His winning
hand disgusted.
Clothe yourself
and he, for he
can take all
straight from
your hand.
feet to show
them how you care
little for the fare.
Play cards
teach a boy
a lesson.
You do not
know he is a thief.
A thief is he
who shares
and cares.
His winning
hand disgusted.
Clothe yourself
and he, for he
can take all
straight from
your hand.
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