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Showing posts from 2014

Tower

He starts to build a tower Half of dream and half desire While others live he's digging He so badly wants to be. He struggles to fuel the fire Finds the dreams burn up so fast But he labours on regardless Days slip by until at last. He's in love with what he's crafted Won't see this cage he's made is he Stays up till sunrise thinking Picks at meals alone and free. He is sad sometimes, frustrated No one ever taught him That his tower's to return to, Not to dwell in, endlessly. Still struggles to fuel the fire Till his dreams dry up at last But still he sits in silence Too proud to leave, to flee. Because he knows there's something to this, He just knows it, must be, So he labours on regardless Forging  must be, must be.

Distance

high above the world I sit only what's stray can find me distanced but not from all noise I wish how far must I go maybe only the stars are an escape from all I feel the earth moving taking me with it the April sky cloudy is falling behind connection I sit, high above the world and listen to what's past all noise only what's stray can follow me Here

Slip

The balance of our seesawed lives is tipping, tipped towards clarity our hands are slipping  slipped Soon one of us will and the other one slip slide off, falling to soft grass sprinkled lovingly with new glass Impossible now to climb back on the stronger one alone will sit in smug sorry triumph enjoy the victory of a hollow throne; held together in habit, a stubborn, slow rot, till it too stumbles, tumbles, over and the stronger one struggles, and wonders why not ever what, we had not got

A thief of the night

Unlocking the lock of the cage of your caged heart is far more difficult than I had imagined The tools I use bend and break, inside or slide between the bars hurting what's within Perhaps it is the very act of picking the lock that is the problem It would be far easier if you just gave me the key.   Or at least let me steal it. "No," she breathes,  breathless "Where's the fun in that?"

Interiors

Interiors, soft soft light reflects on hazy window panes, in webs long set A single ray penetrates dazzles infinity in the mirror, me Alone now but not lonely, inside piecing together the pieces of your heart and mine This space, softly you and throbbing as if alive, still  living was? A bath of winter's warmth Spilling from the ceiling, white This cocoon is my solace unmoving I clean it clean The light will melt, if you let it, into interiors; become new, a little less soft

Fear of the dark

We fear being alone in the dark, I think, because it's a blank mirror mirroring the irrational we're so accustomed to ignoring during the workday, with all our daily tricks, our furniture and gym and The  Big Bang Theory. We all do discover the trick of shutting our eyes, and even in that dark, dark moment of childish fear, we feel safer somehow when we've shut out what's inside. Lately I've been thinking I've been thinking I'm all inside-out "Out!" I blurt out as Steyn appeals, the umpire raises his finger, and Dad sips his beer. 

May for December

I. It was an awkward way to start a relationship. David had asked her if she would be his date to the formal. She seldom wore makeup, but she said yes, and arrived a little late. They chatted easily, she caught his uncertain humour. Things went better than expected.  They danced a little too close for friends, but that might have been the wine. Afterwards she spent the night in his room too drunk to drive home. It was the end of the semester and David’s roommate had already left. “I’ll sleep on his bed. You take mine.” “Don’t be silly,” she said, slightly slurring: “There’s no blankets.” He waited outside while she got undressed. “Ok come in.” She was curled up under his duvet. Her dress hung from the chair. David turned off the light and stripped to his boxers and a T-shirt for decency. He climbed in next to her. The single bed ensured that no matter how he arranged himself he was touching her. May turned to him smiling, said, “I had fun. This was fun.” Then she r