Friday, August 17, 2012
You were what streaks a lucid lake
a skimming green bird, a shooting star
antithesis of a lizard’s walk
cumulus clouds tumbling in
its sandpaper belly
a roaring, restless wave.
You were the subtexts
embroidered in red and gold
configurations of a lovers blanket;
near-caresses, a renaissance exhale.
Sir, I believe your cloudless climes-
in my sweaty verses, be found,
All the precious trifles you dropped
fleeing from embrace to embrace
I confess I stole them, treasured in
sparkling candy wrappers
decorating my inky songs
my drunken muse, my drummer
carrying a loved regret in your bones
a Dionysian delirium
I dream of catching your tail,
a velvety wing, if only you had a spare seat
you egoistic aristocrat, solipsistic monster!
But see, I have a death grip on your ankle
And I am joining you, forever, in your
ecstatic, terrifying, brakeless flight.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
I am afraid of these hallucinations
the yarns, gurgles and names you drown-
sometimes let slip between chews of toast
Alas, your mouth is clever, it swallows what slithered out
revised replies squeezed out through teeth
concealed by gulps of coffee and dismissive laughs.
I can see them on the sea-floor
the water is too clear
I search for her anti-matter
Under your tongue, nails and answers
her intersections and backdrops you scaled
where have you hidden her?
I am capable of such self-torture
holding her picture, zoomed
pixelated, extreme close up
in a coiling rope of curiosity
no greater hell than comparison
her folds and crevices and mine
did you notice that mole?
picturing two tangling and unravelling silhouettes.
familiar touch on an alien skin
I am worried that I will never find out
just betraying signs of distraction
a touch too brief, a reply too elusive
a truth too decisive.
No, don’t muddy the water
let it remain borderline
let me remain too
in the end, everything turns to poems
to dust, rust and oblivion.
Image: A still from Giulietta Degli Spiriti
*Inspired by Federico Fellini's Giulietta Degli Spiriti (1965)