Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Sin


Black cloak, black soul
His faceless eyes shine from
Eyes of fire and hate
Made of every demon
And every nightmare of man
To my soul he speaks thus:

I am the evil of man
The bombs echo his words behind
I am the greed of man
The oil fires blaze behind him
I am the lust of man
The poppy seeds sprout behind from the ashes.

What is this foreign devil?
I ask so confused and innocent
What am I of man
That I be evil
And lay at the foot of your accusation?
To my soul he speaks thus:

I am the evil of man
The bombs echo his words behind
I am the greed of man
The oil fires blaze behind him
I am the lust of man
The poppy seeds sprout from the ashes.

Black robe, black heart
My faceless eyes burn
Cold with thoughtlessness
Made of everything I fear
And all I have to lose
I speak to my mirror thus:

I am the evil of man
The punches echo my words behind
I am the greed of man
The pains of my friend blaze behind
I am the lust of man
The needle hole bleeds from my arm.

I lay myself at the foot of your mercy…

Dancing shadow


I hide my face from an empty world.
I’d rather see the face I love.
No-one can see the lips that burn
From the kisses you gave me
Or how my face lights
When you hurt me again.
No-one can see the shadow
Of a child who lives and dances
In the shadow of your heart,
His life in its hands,
His song in its rhythm.

And now you’re in my head.
I let you in
But now you refuse to leave.
You beat in my skull
A tune I could dance to.
So I do not sleep,
I dance alone.

Kept awake in the moonlight
That refuses to die.
No-one’s up to dance in the glow
But the shadow of my child.
He wishes to dance with you,
To bathe with you in the moon,
Before all chance is lost,
Before it disappears behind the hills,
Behind the tombstones,
Before the daylight comes
To burn my lips.

When it returns for me
I fall back to the dark
To comfort and protect.
And with every sunrise
Your heart beating in my head
I have only a prayer
The dance was real and you are mine.

So long I waited for a girl
Who pierces my pretense,
Who darkens my light,
Whose “flaws” I adore,
Whose flame is the only
That does not burn me.
A girl whose fire
I will dance in all through the night.
A girl called __
Who sets free the shadow
Of the dancing child in me.                   

Sleeping 'til Spring

Spring lambs?
But it's snowing outside.
Lids are meant to close
And mutton's going off
In paper bags
Around weary eyes.
One, two, three
The fourth trips and falls
But I do not fall with it
Not I, not with hops or passion flower.
Lambs springing in my head
But these snow white sheets
Breed no dreams
Grass dies and browns
In locked chambers
Sheep dance over, over, over
And never cease
Am I the fallen lamb after all?

Feet on too solid ground

Writhing, drowning
Such terrible words
When all it is
Is the fluttering of birds.
Who would have known
They'd be freer than I
And leave me on earth
To flounder and die?

Limping home

It whips and chaps
The corners of a joker's smile
Sixteen feet of limping
One step forward, two steps back.
Ode to the anti-platelet
Concealing and deceiving
Until the bitter air of an unusual April
Waiter tricks the veil
Reveals the agony of impairment
Stopped still in icy climates
By swollen limbs.