DRAMA

If, Iffy, Iff-ness
Hold on tight
Don’t let it swallow
Your Ey-ee, Ey-ee, Ey-ness.

Nothing is sure
Nothing is stable
The winds are blowing
Reeking of madness.

My fear sits in my heart
Gnawing slowly, slurpy-slurp
Crumble, crumble, drop by drop
Hollow, hollow, horror.

PRETEND, pretend, screams me in me
Pretend to be happy
Pretend to grow
Pretend to be
ALIVE.

MUTILATE

I’m looking for a logical end
One that doesn’t involve
Cutting me into two
Where neither parts are me.

For you, ranting, screaming, scolding
Is all so new, that it shines of intimacy
For me, it’s a dirty old human habit
Best thrown away before it rots the beautiful.

You can’t bear the mutating explanations of silence
Or how I stare at words that fly from your mouth
Only when you have scorched everything will you fathom
That we shred ourselves with our striking tongues.

I can fight you word for word, but I press mute
So that you’ll have a chance to find a better world
Where you never have to learn
That love has to be protected from love.

MY LOVE IS A FAMILIAR SHIRT

Strangers have fought for this intimacy
That we seem to share in our cups of coffee
Sometimes I wonder if this companionable silence
Hides a longing to be hungrily bitten senselessness.

I look at your bovine, benign chewing
And shake off the shiver down my spine
Kind, wonderful, considerate, gentle you
Why would you hack me to pieces or ram me against a wall?

It’s not that I find these things exciting
It’s just that sometimes our quiet is too quiet
And I can’t help wondering, whether this is the ease of love
Or its tortured whimperings, slaughtered to a standstill.

THE GROWN UP

There is a new cutting-up of emotion
A chop, chop of impulse
Into tiny, not so menacing pieces
That reason can devour.

Are you calling it age
This passion without the violence
This absolute with an absolute escape?
Though, the kisses still feel the same.

It is true, nobody else has ever slept
So close to your chest and smelt your love
I can’t say the same of my wrinkled, brown, loved skin
But I promise our beds never echo their bodies.

In this mating dance, I finally have nothing to lose
Virginity. Identity. Fantasy. All gone, gone, gone.
That’s why, I’ll come screeching happiness and you’ll stare
Shyly afraid, wondering when I’ll love enough, to fear again.

GENEROUS

I combed my hair
Put on my make-up
Counted my wrinkles
Walked out of the door.

I am older than yesterday
Hungrier than dinner
Faster than a tantrum
Smaller than tomorrow.

I walk endlessly
With my feet
In my head
My heels grow heels.

A cloud spits in my eye
Tottering, I collapse
The wind blows
My pieces together.

I’m now piled-up
Vertically
All my meat falls off
Earthwords.

Ants, bugs, mud
Feast on me
You use my bones
Play seven stones.

CHARCOAL

You have the rage of a hundred buffalos
Hurtling themselves across space
Raising, swirling storms of dust
Where you see nothing, not even me.

Your love talk falls on the side
All that mush splintered
By the raising decibel levels
Of your spitting fury.

There was a time,
When I would have fought this fire
With one of my own
But now I sit quiet, burning quiet.