Wednesday, June 01, 2016

Reflection: shimmer
Of leaves. Mirror with no soul.
Cold air turns sharp.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Afternoon Respite



A languid limp
made him redundant as our click-
clack
replaced
the thump of files. The clang
of 

steel 
plates on makeshift tables drown 
out 
his 
wife’s quibbling better than the 
chatter 
of 
his 
grandchildren.

The Bookseller's Lament



Speaking to strangers
of Mersault’s moral ambiguity
while
windowed wheels lit within
by slim screens of modernity whisk the children
towards tomorrows,
the bookseller recounts the death
of salesmen.
Four books later, the
subdued smell of unsold books
lingers long
on the pavement.
Here, I drink sugarcane juice.

Friday, March 11, 2016

Poison


Simple machines within fill up
to the brim, poison up
to my neck,
to drown the poison within.

Simple times with a simple laugh,
to a single laugh, poison within.
To single songs of simple joys,
to a clenching of the heart,
to a song of joy and simple laughs,
to sin, to sit, to sing, to simple laughs.

Simply to laugh is
too much for the poison clogs it all
to the brim, to my neck,
two bits of poison mingle
to mix, to make, to melt the simple laughs.

Too much to take for
two. One is never enough.

Sunday, October 05, 2014

ramblings

Little  by little the humid
air trickles down
my speckled back and makes me tinker with magic
lost.
Yearning for courage flushed,
I get lost amongst words
and you pull me with recent scents
of fruit and sweat, she
of wild withering, and then there's
the innocence of untouched pearls.
I descend into banality and these words,
the only safe retreat,
whores now to be sold like you, titter, and I grimace,
My mind cheekily
framing verses of love, when
lust shimmers - the waif of an unfettered
and dissatisfied, impotent and impatient
husband. Her lust clouds judgement
- I wait with impatience
for lusty fingers to find
solace in the digging of dead skin.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Ocean

At the shore
of the universe, the sudden
turn of lotus eyelids,
human folly escapes
these lips and the dreamer
dreams us up.

At the whistle
of this breath, the poem
of death unread, our wisdom
chokes
on its words and the dreamer dreams us up.
The dreamer dreams dreams of us,
sipping life past a lazy night,
washing our passions out
loud
in clouds
of haste, the dreamer dreams us up.

Nostalgia

I left that easy bed for
a few nights
of sleepless nostalgia, a whisper
of past memories, knowing
I must for cords unbroked.
The wishes whispered by ears of benign revolution - we wept
at the prophetic words
of alien lives, the strums
keeping us awake through
the walls of sold memories. Each sip
a grin, each swig a sip melancholy,
each each
grabbing each each
through
forgotten reveries of unforgotten reveries.
Each each
eaching
each
soul
to death, each death
recorded with each life towards each hell.

A haiku for your
pleasure. Time flows slow
when sitting alone.
An odd eve; strangers:
conversation is idle.
Life comes full circle.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Waiting

Weary warrior of sinking eyes, the vision
disappears, fleeing
on the ship of buoyant fears. Talkative
times of floating tirades wish
for quiet
mornings, egging on abysmal pride.
When those walks
wishappear they whisper
w's, threaten
th's, and remind
dr's. To let, to let, to
let them sleep on
            sinking
sips, to let
them to let long
whiles
to wake to morning full
of walks bereft
of
stains
on the wall,
chipping paint, singing
lullabies.:
Weary             warriors
with sinking eyes, too early
for hopeful cries.

Saturday, October 06, 2012

vocation

Waiting within, the garlands
across the door ride along
the wind, paste memories upon
passing windows
of red
and white
and multi-
coloured facades
with suites of chance travels. Without,
the bumpy, unbroken
roads
of commitment cemented in asphalt patches
towards dusty-red highway
stops
.
Herein, stumbling
murmurs
of fading voicesswarmsmobs often
finding

vacation

in lucid
walks (walls) that gingerly add to dire attempts
to recover now ancient
trinkets of past
times
meaningfully using perished words of
red
and
white
and
multi-
coloured
facades of suites of meant-to-be
destinations.