In Grace Profusion

(the 24th of September, Spain)

Wake up to the
Mounting of the golden sail
Beyond our crib

Night is
The quiet spin
Before we are
Reunited
With the sun

In this country
They put “no access”
Signs
On beauty

Amidst
A half-built future
And a half-derelict past
We gypsies
Feast our eyes on
Waves
Slapping the sand
In frothy anger.

Light glints off
The skeletal scaffolding
Of a precarious bridge
Between
Today and tomorrow

My son believes
That tomorrow
Is sooner than
Later
That the future
Spreads ahead
Like peanut butter
On a slice of bread

I don't have the heart
To teach him
That now is already
Too late

Time Travels

(By Sil, the 27th of July, 2010, Romania)

Overlooked
Shifting luggage
Smuggled aboard
Overhanging hangover
Of a different ball
The door forced shut
Memory pound small

How eager Nostalgia
Irons out the
Creased, yellowed fabric
Of lived in life
Into a sensuous
Constructed shape
Not the dour Reality drape

No good
Measuring years by
Pounds gained
Or innocence lost
I tell myself
Lost in the innocence
Of the
Mirror-played
“I’m not growing up”
Game

Every now and again
I return
To a beach
Where love threw
Bitter-sweet apples
My way

I long to
Run fingers
Through Youth’s
Luscious mane
But as I watch my son
Refract
In the pierced
Water membrane

Abandoned by time,
And insane
I throw
Still many more seconds
Away

About Your Father

(By Sil, the 20th of June, 2010)

Father’s
Words
Are
Wheels
You can borrow
For the Long Ride

In exchange of
Propulsion
You won’t
Leave
Your identity
At the gate

But you will
Have to
Build
Your own frame
With
Your own tools

He holds you close
So you can learn
That
It is manly
To cradle

He cries
So you would see
Under
Permeable skin
He is vulnerable,
But not weak.

You know
That his door
May be closed
But never locked
So enter.

In his cave of wonders
He preserves
Traces of his past
So you can
Dare
To look
Into your future.

Beginnings

(By Sil, June, 2009, London)

Of beginnings without heartbeat:
I am thrust into motion
Cat yanked awake from drowsy stupor.
What shall I tell you?
How do we begin
When it feels like
Whenever our eyes lock in steel gaze
I rediscover you – a stranger

Are we just being born
Moment by moment
Each new task
A new entering into the world
Without a midwife

Choking on fluid fear
No wonder I don’t breathe
No wonder being with me
Feels like riding an underground train
Jerk. Speed up. Slow down. Stop. Wait.
Breath again.

Fear Manifesto

(By Sil, the 3rd of June, 2010, London)

Passive,
I’d rather be the strapped-in passenger,
Not the sightless driver
Manoeuvring
Into the night of destiny
Even if it means
Even if it means
I am handing over the controls.

Heavy-eyed,
I rather mash the view in soft focus
Than stay alert
To the hazard-yielding panorama of being
Even if it means
Even if it means
I’m sleeping my life away.

Slow,
I’d rather toddle along the bridle path
Not race
On the highways of ambition
Where speed is the blood of direction
Even if it means
Even if it means
I never arrive.

Thrust into the driving seat
Too young
Feet dangle above the pedals
Gaze below the mirrors
My body
A car with no controls
To the brim filled with the fuel of fear
Clamps down.
I crash
On the unforgiving turns of life.

The Beduin Wedding Dress

(By Sil, Dahab, Egypt, December 2008)

This black canvas
Covered in loud cris-cross
Mis-matched pattern
Red thread and un-stiching seams
The lost-and-found lace
Infantile search for beauty
It will fall apart, surely
Made by impatient young hands
You can look too close and
Your examining eyes can tear it apart
Such fragile prettiness
Femininity in a black desert

Still

(By Sil, the 28th of May, 2010, London)

Trying to escape
Dog gets electric shock
After electric shock
Eventually it learns to
Just lie there and give up
The pain is in the doing
So it won’t do
Nothing can go wrong
When lying still
So it lies still
In stillness
She is free from punishment
The stillness – cage within the cage
Thus the lesson in helplessness
Is learned