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...and perhaps you will discover that these things which lightened your days were not as bright as first imagined, but that the illusion had more conviction than the illumination, and in the dying light and disorientation the darkness passed each of your senses through the aperture of the new: the flesh; the structures; the worn artefacts of the world became a braille for your lovely hands.
All Posts Categorised "Poetry"
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bySunday, October 17, 2010Before we marry you should knowthere is a torrent of my freak digital penisthat is being shared on the interwebs. From peer to peerthis radical sex craze is going viral -it is giving new meaning to hard drive;it is being retweeted like a leaked document;the sum of all experience is a status update…
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bySaturday, October 16, 2010And in the practice of lovewe find that we are walking on tightropes;and in the practice of lovewe are trying to upset the balance of the other.How much better it isto dance together in the open field;how much better it isto laugh together beneath the sun.
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byThursday, October 14, 2010This night haired girl from the north islandhas thighs as warm as her people’s history.To join with her in a song of bodiesis to enter, with peace, the open sky.Her lips contain the love of the world:Mau tena kiwai o te kete, maku tenei.Each of us a handle of the basket.What we carry, we carry together. -
byWednesday, October 13, 2010Losing faith in who I am,I wear myself as a black armband,as a bad trinket:I silence myself as an unspeakable history -I’ve slain all the mirrors.I will let it all dribble through me: the tapirs; the grapes; the shampoo bottles– it is all the same.Things bleed; lose edge; (cry amongst themselves) speak in gibberish.The manholes, the fruit bowls, the hydrants,the bearded men, the sprinkle of dust that coats -
byTuesday, October 12, 2010Beyond the blue is void: we know this.We know this and we squat,hatching plans amidst grief;swimming; hailing cabs;loving summers, icecream.We do it, squatting,tracing empty circlesin the clean dirt -sketching options; mining forThe One Shrewd Answer.Slim pickings.More of the same cycle. More ofthe same cycle. Moreof the same cycle.We are consigned to feast on scarsand brutal histories,growing fat; learning nothing. -
byMonday, October 11, 2010She had lovely arms, lovely as the feeling of a silk camisolebeing eased over a plump chambermaid’s head,or lovely like the touch of leggings woven from black smoke,and all you wanted was for her to be in, then out, of fabric.It was always! about the flesh being confused –it was always! about imprisonment and liberation.You never meant to choose this garden – it was always!location, location, location for the right kind of seeds. -
bySunday, October 10, 2010On the left side of the quadranta Venezualan oil merchant shrieked:“Foul! This nimwit is lost in a nebulalooking for a military compass.” The broadsheetsin Andromeda rustled with a taciturn delight –all the docks had been unloaded of virgins –they were expecting no more shipments. -
bySaturday, October 9, 2010And it came to pass, it came to pass, it came to pass,with rictus and calamity, with the sinew of a tired world,that men had explored all frontiers, that life was closedfor the weekend, was thinking of selling up and movingaway to a place with a moderate climate and watersideviews, that the world had lost shape and was consideringretirement, getting plump, forgetting Prada, and settling downwith Pluto, the illegitimate planet, to grow fat on taboo or pie -
byFriday, October 8, 2010This world, without you;it is as this: night follows night -the dark day crawls into corners and glares.It asks me to add the gleam, to perform,to cast my own light on things:a beggar throwing alms towards the rich.Perhaps I’ll move with lighter feeton each loose shard of morning that is broken,or learn to love the clots of timethat can’t be shaken free.In this world, without you,I wade knee deep through the days black bilge:living alone; dying alone; sleeping as a monk. -
byThursday, October 7, 20101.In this turning awaylies your secret father,the concealed one.I have stolen the truth in his eyes.I have stolen the momenthe is afraid to let you see.
