Grenouille

(the 11th of April, 2012, HBC)

Do I play the seductress?
Sprawled out on paper
I must appear
Exciting, vibrant
On stage
I burn
I dazzle
Make a mess
Collector of
Pretty things –
Painted silks, butterflies, violets
Killer and poet
I want to know
Where memory lives
Stalk and capture
This shy beast
In love, yes
Shamefully obsessed
With what I can never possess:
The propensity,
The soaring
Yearning souls
Of the barefoot beggars
All those cut deep

At Times You Play the Lover

(By Gub, the 11th of April, 2012, HBC)

At times you play the lover
Occasional wife
Most times it's the mother;

A cloak of first resort
To hide from unwelcome visits,
Retire to early bed,
With a warmer thought,
Than marital consumption
- or tedious rendition
Of 'thank you' for the most
Basic partner function
Like :- is the dog fed?
Are the lights off?

Are we dead?

Am I your soul mate,
Your husband,
Your chauffeur
Or fortunes' croupier
Raking chips
Across the green baize ?

Are we passing roles
Or passing out ?

The red light flashes at the
End of the Causeway
The oceans cavernous reach
A Perplex of white and dark creases

Never ending questions
Never ending
Waves

Such tension -

Ascend, descend,
Unceasing,

Life may be tedious - yes
But death is permanent
And dull.

Roadside Picnic

(the 1st of April, 2012)

In silence
We break the bread
Of doubt and terror
Share battle folklore
A longed-for release
From above
And below
The punctured reality
Of the Room
We’re visitors,
Facing the same wall
Uncertainty
So cast the un-retrievable bait
Threat, thread, rupture -
Precarious weave of
The full empty
Call on poets
To drag Cerberus
Out of the Underworld
Hold up
The three heads of the beast:
Shame, Loss, Envy
Frantic road-side feast!