Monthly Archives: August 2010

Communion

Tiny dust motes dance the air
as we lean on shafts of sunlight.
Beneath lyrical whisperings

stir deep subliminal sex hymns,
fluidity of limbs lifting us
repeatedly to the surface.

Here, intertwining for a while,
before fear of falling pulls us
back into our haven of verse.

Do we dare commune my love,
knowing we may be forced to
relearn solitude once again?


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Triquetra

delicate blisters
mismatched sisters
sullen bitches
dirty ditches
wind chimes chisel
spite like drizzle


niggardly fuses
purple bruises
sharp claw catches
red raw scratches


separate banners
distant manners
fifty paces
private spaces
arms-length siblings
minor quibblings


motherhood mellows
nervous hellos
wary half-smiles
belly laugh lines


delicate blisters
mismatched sisters
forgive trespass
healing times pass
fondness floods eyes
timeless blood ties


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After Midnight

A willingness to unwind, to find
cold sand beneath; waves come and go,
bequeath relief, soothe and flow

and temper restless minds.
Grains sieve through open fingers
as constraints dare not linger

a moment longer. Time trickles
as mouths mesh, fingertips find flesh
no longer fickle, exigencies fresh.

Tiny droplet fallen from reality’s
choking necklace clasped to breast;
August’s sunrise gift – respite’s caress.


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little ball of string

showered
wrapped thoughts in a towel
sat on the floor
for what seemed like hours
tried not to fall
through
just sat there
and unravelled
came to
still no sign of the truth


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Because today there is no grey

Letting my mind come to rest,
it slips into the groove;
into the cross-thread screw
that is me and you.


As I sit here in this grubby café
waiting for a train
that will never come
I notice only absence;


no steaming cups of coffee,
no bustle, no props, no paid extras;


no epic war raging outside,
no innocent casualties
bleeding quietly
around the edges of my vision;


no Lean guy directing the action,
just some fucked-up god
with a twisted sense of humour
and bad timing.


No, today there is only absence
and for now, for this tiny
fraction of time that we have
been given, I am content,


in this place,
where everything else falls away
and all that matters is the
black and white space we share.


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Murmur

the word slips
tangles in your lips
slides out on exhaled air

softly tips
spirals swoops and dips
through mussed up bed-head hair

indigo drips
rewrites ancient scripts
soft wet sound in my ear

my heart flips
sails on spice trade ships
satin and silk start to tear

say my name
say it again
say it again
say it again


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Come

mess up the bed with me
slowly undress with me
escape, transgress with me
come mess up the bed


kiss and caress with me
spread your finesse on me
just acquiesce to me
come, mess up the bed


set yourself free with me
over your knee with me
make a banshee of me
come mess, up the bed


love me obsessively
dispossess sanity
fuck me cerebrally
come, come in my head


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Sexpresso (decimá)

Through flaring nostrils slowly curls
deeply wet and dark aroma;
filters into every stroma
and laps at lips in creamy swirls.


As hot adrenalin unfurls,
burning throats and flooding flushes,
too soon come the caffeine rushes.
All that remains is bitter grinds,
a soggy mess that seeps and finds
last night’s coffee coloured blushes.

 

 

 

 

~  The decimá is a rare old form from Spain that is still practiced today in parts of Latin America, notably Cuba and Puerto Rico. This is my first attempt. Structure is:Ten lines (hence the name), eight syllables per line, with the following rhyme-scheme:a-b-b-a a-c-c-d-d-c


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Grave

We dug a hole and climbed right in;
complicit in our daily sin.

 

Covered our heads with mud and dirt,
threw away soap, cleanliness hurt.

 

Stuffed stones in ears and sand in eyes,
painted on smiles, grew to despise.

 

Filled our hole with things of beauty,
played with the toys, did our duty.

 

Invited worms in for dinner,
they all got fat, we got thinner.

 

Wasting away our lives until
death do us part and we lie still.


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Gossamer

Lacy garter graces thigh;

 

a sigh beneath
a soft warm breath
on silk kissed skin;
a moan within.

 

Quick flick lick of tender tongue;

 

gossamer strands

‘neath hands unwind
the moment stills;
she comes undone.


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