Wednesday, 18 May 2016

well aren't you lucky, you fools in love
to be so naked in the middle of winter
and yet be the warmest of us all

Monday, 9 May 2016

there is something about a duplex which says
a house can be one and still be divided
everything an effort to be able to reach out
who’s story sits in the corner-most room
the flickering light that will not be fixed
the cobwebs beneath chairs and behind beds
who gets the mattress when two sharing a room fight
who gets the AC, who gets the pillow, and how

there is something about a duplex
and the terror of stairs- from underneath the fear
of a horror movie, a face staring from between the gap,
from the upper floor the coming to life of a
family drama you did not want to watch
there is something about concrete and two floors
that still cannot shield children from the shouts
and cries, everything becomes quieter, the voices
become clearer; the horror of stairs where you sit
listening closely to the swords of words
a battlefield, your childhood the collateral damage
to a burning family; listening closely
to the beating of your own heart

there is something about a duplex
there is something about noises
there is something about stairs
that makes the soul go numb

Sunday, 8 May 2016

the patterns of well-rehearsed fingertips hands remembering rhythms of the body like the beat of a song you’ve heard every day; who said a game for two (or a few) can’t be played by one?

Thursday, 5 May 2016

the witch hunt alone
in all godly hours
she mutter spell under breath
jibber jabber to world
it is she who fell the rain
it is she who drown the land
it is she who travel the air
it is she shake the earth
it is she the wild hair
stay unchained in wind
it is she the laugh
reach ear at night
it is she burn in rising flame
it is she who never die
it is she in café-bar
it is she who get drink
it is she in library behind book
it is she who get the wink
it is she echo in hollow monument
it is she fly in bird wing
it is she who serve food
with little long witchy hand
it is she who give comfort
with jibber jabber spell
it is she whose breast you suckle
it is she whose vagina you lend
it is she whose milk you drink
it is she whose blood you born.