M a r i o n e tt e s

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Wooden eyes
and long, lean legs
a uniquely sophisticated 
sense of humour

(his words)

He moved around
/ all fabled theatrics /
while she watched
his orchestrating
moves from
afar

*

Wooden skin
and fast beat steps
a uniquely sophisticated
sense of humour

(she couldn't tell)

He made his speech
/ all fabled theatrics /
⁠and they all vowed—
- blind - deaf - wordless -
m a r i o n e tt e s

orchid spaces

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//We both felt dizzy with verses
Electrified!
Living in orchid
               Spaces

Lucid—
All those rhymes 
of yore

Such widowed thoughts
Our lonely oasis//

/Moon passages
And wicked faces
Bespoke suits,
Poetic races

Discerning fables and
   Fizzy odes/

//We both felt dizzy with verses
Electrified!
Living in orchid
               Spaces

Such widowed thoughts
One homely oasis

Lucid—
All the rhymes 
Of yore//

The Departed

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He felt like sneezing;
laughing to himself;
or remaining silent

            Helplessly searching
 for drowsy stories
      to put into words

"Finish that page!"
    the choir
        - w h i l e
   h e  h u m m e d 
    a  h o p e f u l
         t u n e - 
   kept chanting

And then, 
just like that, 
he departed

Thankful for the life
he’d lived
loved
l
e
f
t

lazy sounds

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A yellow rose
a bright red Moon
these wrinkled thoughts—
they need 
some ironing

I outstretch my arms,
I yawn, I smile—
safe in the knowledge
that I am not 
immortal

                          /Loathing
                          this endless
                          loop of
                          lazy sounds/

*

A yellow rose
a bright red Moon
those wrinkled thoughts—
they crave
some irony

A spider web
some deep, brown eyes—
a saturnine reflection 
in my morning
coffee

                          /Loathing
                          this endless
                          loop of
                          lazy sounds/



*
A yellow rose
a bright red Moon
those wrinkled thoughts—
they need 
some ironing

Where did She go?
I sensed her, near—
yet now she's
nowhere around 
to be seen

                          /O Muse, come back,
                           bearing harmonious gifts—
                           effacing this senseless
                          loop of lazy
                          s o u n d s/

allure

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allure, allure,
a silent sulk
a smile,
a doubt

                ~ A change 
        of  r o u t e ~

a fear of drought,
these crispy beds.
the linens—blue

           ~ The eternal 
      s h a d e s ~

with open eyes
these thought parades—
I sense them all

           ~ The storm 
   p e r v a d e s ~

it rains and rains,
and soaks the truth—
all magic rites

      ~  A silent 
       s u l k ~           

allure, allure
this hidden truth.
a smile,
some doubt,

     ~ This endless 
           s h o u t ~

the sweaty words,
these crispy beds.
the sirens—blue

     ~ The calmness 
           f a d e s ~ 

with open eyes
those thought parades—
I sense them all

                         ~ T h e  s t o r m 
     p   e   r   v   a   d   e   s ~ 

Lights On

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Feeling homesick
all stranded
left the building
keys inside it—
no way back

                He’s now so lost

Lights are on
the lamp
still shining
those shelves—
empty

                Books all gone

Who’s the liar
who’s the beggar
who’s 
      the
thief—

                This empty soul

Feeling homesick
all stranded
left the building
keys inside it—
no way back

                He’s now so lost

He’s got
talent
he’s a genius
such smoked mirage—
portrait, 

                Pawn

ice tickles

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       Moving on 
        with life—
       enhancing 
    m         o          s  
          o          d

                       / ice won’t 
                      break
                     as you skate
                               o n /

              Drawing
                on this 
               sensual,
            s l i p p e r y
   s           r           a         e
        u           f           c     

                        / enraptured
                               by those
                         i c e
                         t i c k l e s /

         Feet moving
          to the sound
               of a 
           s i l e n t
w       i          p         r
     h        s          e        

/ ice won’t 
        break
   as you skate
 o n /

                    An ageless 
    s  u  p  e r  n  o  v  a
                   in this 
                          perpetual
 
                w       i       n      t      e      r
              
                                s
                      
                                        k
              
                              y 

ink rain weather

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Walking barefoot
on fresh grass
rain keeps
smearing
this old
draft

                   / Faint
                    reflections 
                        o f 
                     o u r
                  d a m p
                 r  e  a  l  i  t  y  /

Dizzy letters
all get 
blurred
eerie story—
last line
slurred

              / D r i z z l i n g lines
                   in ink rain
                    weather /

Books all
tattered,
O, too frail!
this ink
watered down—
too pale

All these stories
drowning, bold;
fading lines
on torn page
drawn

                  / Faint
                    reflections 
                        o f 
                     o u r
                  d a m p
                 r  e  a  l  i  t  y /

(Were they
really any
good, though?
I wonder 
now—
too late)

           / D r i z z l i n g  lines
                   in ink rain
                    weather /