Monday, February 14, 2011

Secrets With This One

I run my finger cross your throat
let it linger in fantasy
as you snore into our sheets
you whore, you fucking beast

I keep waiting
for a reason to let you keep living
keep waiting
for you to give me like I've given
but all you ever do is take
I open my heart to you
and all you ever do is break

I push hard on your jugular
tears streaming down
fears screaming out
and it's clear I can't keep lovin ya

Gotta break you
like you have broken me
You and your secrets
yet i love you openly
like i have nothing to hide
I could cut you
and make it look like suicide

I wrestle with these thoughts so vile
they'd turn your gut like stomach bile
and all the while
you snore on with no regrets
breaking me down
with your lies and secrets...


For my dear girl... You really don't have to go through this alone... Late night texts?.. Love you. W.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

A Space Walk

You could strip away everything beautiful about her
yet still be awed by her imperfections
or study Yeats, Chaucer and Shakespeare
but not know poetry til she blessed your temple
with a kiss
rested your head on her bosom
and swooned
"I'm where you belong."

Look you could travel back in time
to when we were kings
and rule over every man and beast in the jungle
triumphantly pounding your chest
but it'd beat hollow
cos you know what it means
to be ruled by a lioness
and to hear her roar
"I'm where you belong."

Or you could even become an astronaut
and dedicate your days
to finding your way to the moon
and as soon as you landed there
be struck by the awesome closeness
of a galaxy of stars
yet never wander too far
cos you'd miss the sparkle in her eyes
drawing you back to earth
like gravity whispering
"I'm where you belong."

And you could find your way back to school
and work your ass off
and earn a PhD in Botany
where you'd lose your senses
in the petals of jasmines and orchids
and endless research
that would lead you to sell your life away
and move to a grass-thatched hut in the wilds
of that tiny island in the Caribbean
where the sweetest flowers grow
all in your impossible quest
to create a perfume
sweet enough to capture the essence
of her voice
when she pulls you close
looks you unwaveringly in the eye
with her sparkling pair
and professes
"I'm where you belong."

Man you could live to a hundred
and in that time do no wrong
you could raise a family with her
pay your taxes and never litter
you could drive a hybrid
and give up red meat and sweets
you could start a soup kitchen
and keep your nails clipped
and always say "please" and "thank you"
and you could be the very best
you had it in you to be
and maybe

just maybe

you'd earn the right
to respond in kind
when she declares
"I'm where you belong."


For whom I dream of belonging to, W.

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

In Ten Days


If in the next ten days
this city should crumble apart
then that gives me just ten days
to clean out the mess in my heart
and admit:
I can't see passed You
and I don't wanna turn away

The mass dissent rumbles quiet
and on the news
as in church pews
they preach, The Jungle will RIOT
so You have to know:
I can't see passed You
and I don't wanna turn away

There'll never be a convenient time for this
the world's falling to pieces
and I'm blind to it
cos I can't see passed You
can't turn and run
can't hide
where would I go
that could feel so alive?

Where could they drag me
on hands and knees
torture me for ten days
ignore my pleas
spit at me
break my bones
make me swear
to leave You alone?

They'd get nothing

For ten days they could starve me
and I would hardly
register pangs of hunger
cos I'd look at You
and the spell I'd come under
would drown out the war in the streets
and all there'd be
is the stubborn soles of Your feet
the curiosity of Your navel
and the weightlessness of Your laugh
lifting me safely above the chaos

And on that tenth day
the day of my death
as they, in frustration, inevitably
relent and put an end to me
I'll turn to You
with my steadfast thought
explaining the battle
I religiously fought
the reason I could not turn away
the thing that I've been trying to say:

"You are the light I saw
when God created woman."

Monday, February 07, 2011

The Puzzle


Can you imagine walking in on her
Arms thrust gracefully to the ceiling
Revolving, rejoicing in the very feeling
Like a liberated cabaret performer
Opening her soul to the world?

Knowing nothing outside of that moment

In a chance encounter, I learned the truth about her:
She is her secret

Suddenly I could see with utmost clarity beyond her
Endless layers of protocol and good manners
Carefully crafted status updates and swear-free tongue
Resting restlessly within the storm of her calmness
Existed a phoenix
Twirling and turning to the rhythm of her feet
Letting loose a wildlfire that blazes across her of
Yearning and of youthful colours

An undercover lover of gypsy tunes and late starry nights

Dont ask me how I got to see her dance
As moments like this are more about chance
Not blinking your eyes in a moment of truth
Capturing forever the glorious portrait of youth
Exposing that beautiful wild thing within
Resting restlessly in her dancing rhythm...



For you, no.4... Happy Valentine's Day... Love, The Stranger.