Thursday, 27 August 2015

Mirror Love

What are we
but passing mirrors
just carriers of stones
as word or music
pebble or nostalgia;
passing mirrors
that's what we are
objects in chance multiplication
and images that recede
into infinities untouchable;
passing mirrors
open for fracture
and strewing shards
that cut hearts
that dare walk
to divine proximities.

Wednesday, 26 August 2015

Word Crimes and Punishment

When words are not enough
or too much 
and their verticality bends
into an arrowhead of retribution
when the maladies of incoherence 
exact a price for a pierced cure
that digs deep into the heart of narration
and as bloodlines eject
the ineptitudes of love
the baby words 
with the babble-bathed waters 
dirtied in the necessary intercourse
of the lightest touch
on the finest handkerchief ,
when words are not enough
and too much
and the rent-collectors 
come charging 
for helpless trespasses 
those rendered naked 
must go
must go far away
to an ancient tree
and a blue mountain 
where it is said gather on certain dawns
that will not freeze
and nights that will not end
the poets from a different century
who recite in a thankfully foreign tongue
the poetry of silence 
made of all ignorances 
and thus clothe 
but barely so
the uncouth, imprudent men
who once dared to speak 
and desecrate thereby

the holy lands of love. 

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

She loves rabbits, clearly

She feels
for rabbits
pets that breed and breed
and when giving can’t keep pace
have to be sterilized;
she feels for rabbits
those bred for meat
and for them she would fight
start a movement, 
shake the world,
and so she begins thus:
‘do something about it, write!’
as she chews on a piece of chicken;
and when asked
about selective morality 
considers meatlessness;
she’s a little girl
a feeling girl

much loved!

Monday, 24 August 2015

The fate of vacancies

Vacancies are painted
in blue and green 
color proxy straws 
on dry river beds 
where strangled fish hearts 
are quietly buried 
by a wind undertaker 
that pockets the inevitable last gasp love -- 
collectibles uncollected 
to color the faraways 
of other love poetry 
those hills and seas of longing.