untitled

somehow it’s true:
whatever burns the strongest
the most intense
burns out the fastest -
      your ardor
      your desire

and now that the flame has
   extinguished
i am forced to fly away
on my scorched wings
lamenting
that the fire had not lasted
even long enough to
incinerate me

untitled

perhaps it was fitting
that i should run into a familiar face of old
dressed exactly as i had of old -
so that i could perpetuate the myth
that i am forever unchanging,
unchanged

untitled

i could not stay my muse
the day she went away
now, as then, every single word is
a piece of Mother Earth - fertile -
and planted in each a tiny seed
of promise and potential
to bud and flourish into the elegant
lyrical willow of poetree -

but for a muse’s smile and tears

oh

now that you have severed
my heartstrings completely
my unbound heart
in a single bound
has fled from me

Why

Why do I still contrive
To put up a brave front –
Struggle to remain stoic,
Strain to restrain my tears –
When you and I both know
I have and will always run ...
Run ...
              Run ...?

Untitled

Is it better to half-lose and half-find
Than to lose wholly and not find at all?
I do not think so.
Especially if what has not been lost
Or what has been found is a sad memento of the
Better half.

Untitled

No doubt it will rain again today,
As it had yesterday and the day before
And the past week.
Once a year the weather must breakdown
Like the broken-hearted and bury her face
In her cloud-pillows and weep for long gray
Days at a stretch, occasionally thundering
At the unfairness of having her heart broken
And not being the one breaking hearts instead,
Promising the next heart to break
Will not be hers.

Untitled

Time reproached me silently
For the guilty weight of my sins,
The voice of moments long departed.
The ghosts of what I had done and
What I had not cling tenaciously,
Thistledown I cannot blow
Or brush off from under the coat of my
Skin - an uncomfortable prickly lining
Of draining insubstantial weight.
In the night it is too warm and my
Skin weeps wordlessly into the bedclothes,
In the day it is too cold and my
Blood freezes in the cavern of my
Heart - ah, my punishment.

Time reproaches me silently
For the long ghostly mantle dragging
Behind me slowing me down, keeping me
Farther and farther away from
Keeping up with the unremitting
Plodding beat of life.

A Sad Song

She gave a crystal bottle
A gift out of the blue
A sweetly scented bottle
And painted dreams come true

I’m not looking for someone to blame
I just want to staunch my wounds and pain

I held her bottle tenderly
I placed it up on high
I dared only gaze at it
And dream and sniff and sigh

Such a fragile gift she gave
I knew it’d soon fracture
Who’d then be able to save
When hope and dreams shatter

What else would matter then
Oh what else would matter

I’m not looking for someone to blame
I just want to staunch my wounds and pain

Then one day I couldn’t help myself
I took the bottle down
Oh, Goddess alone would know
Why I took it down

With trembling hands I held the bottle
And then I opened it
Oh, what a mistake I had made
That I had opened it

Look at what has happened now
Oh look at what has happened
What else could matter now
Oh what else would matter

Without a single clink or tinkle
The bottle broke and shattered
In a single blink and twinkle
Nothing else had mattered

Pieces sharper than scalpels
Some as fine as fairy dust
I sliced my fingers on the slivers
She blew into my eyes the dust

Oh but was it not an accident
Everything that had happened
Yes, it was just an accident
But why must it have happened

She gave a crystal bottle
A gift out of the blue
A sweetly scented bottle
And painted dreams come true

Now all I’ve left is broken pieces
Of gaudy dreams untrue
And the sweetly scented hope
Has from the broken bottle seeped through

Oh look at what has happened now
What else will matter
Oh look at what has happened now
My hope and dreams’ve been shattered

Blinded and bleeding
Now am I in pain
Blinded and bleeding
I’ve only myself to blame

Blinded and bleeding
I am poor and pleading
Not looking for someone to blame
I just want to staunch my wounds
And ease the pain

For what else will matter
When hope and dreams shatter



18th - 19th December 2006