Greece April 2010

What Does it Mean to Wonder?

If you did,

how would you do it?

Toes at the edge,

ground barely visible.

One foot off,

followed by the other.

Rope laced around the neck

pulled tightly.

Chair beneath the feet

slowly kicked away.

Hand wrapped around the shaft

pressure against the temple.

Finger squeezes the trigger

out with one bullet.

Red, white and blues

mixed with tequila,

on top of more yellows

add a few shots of vodka.

Blade against flesh

dragging it across,

cutting deeper,

left to bleed.

If we wonder,

does that make us crazy?

They thought so.  

Now I lay, 

surrounded by screaming white walls

hands and feet bound to the bed,

wishing that that cold winter morning,

closed in the dark deserted garage,

I had left the engine running.

The Swiss Alps

Just Like You

My fingers closed around her lifeless hand.
Perfect red hair, tied in braids that fell on her shoulders.

Long lashes, above green glass eyes that never shut.

Porcelain, virgin skin covered her hard body.

Dragging her everywhere she never broke,

She never broke because,

I never let her go.

I never let her go until that one day,

focused on the noises, the kids and the liquid colors.

I placed her on the window sill,

to watch the pair in the yard, on the swings.

Returning,

the black sheer curtains had been closed,

I knew she was no longer there.

Guilt sits in my stomach,

for being so easily distracted

for losing her like I lost you.

And the fact you never knew

I loved her like I loved you.

Caribbean Gardens

Witness

117 pounds,
Long, voluminous golden hair
flamboyant blue eyes,
the fullest laugh with that vivid smile.
How she used to be.

With her every day, I watched
as full meals became almost extinct.
From barbecued chicken, and spiced rice
to 4 saltines and the occasional green.

I watched as her calves ran into her thighs,
Only flesh covered bone,
with no change in size.
Her back, her shoulders, breaking through,
every rib visible,
 through that pale yellow tainted skin.
I watched as her empty eyes sunk in deeper,
And her brittle hair began to break,
As she became an 87 pound frame.  

And all I did was watch,
through my own reflection
As I slowly turned into nothing.  

Monster Truck

Innocent Play

Room vacant, boxes full

pushed against the colourless walls.

Centered, faces mirrored,

the cold, hard cement floors beneath us,

as we begin to play.

Fingers wrapped tightly around the can.

Wrist cocks, back and forth

rattling comes from inside.

Finger applying pressure,

hissing, it is released,

sprayed until caught by plastic.

Deeply inhaled,

Me,

Then 

You,

My only ally.

Hand against my cheek

I can only see

A Slight nod, a readied look.

Knuckles fly straight towards me
Blackness.

Blurriness

 Your face slowly forms

I see your golden eyes
Wide with worry, eased with my smile.

Again, I say

Knuckles fly at me from the side

The room swings to the left

Blackness.

Blurriness.

Slowly your eyes into view,

wide with amazement, amusement.

The back of your throat exposed.

Unclenching your fist,

a red stain revealed.

Hand to my lip

its twin on the tips,

I bleed with no concern.

Again, I say

Knuckles fly straight towards me

Blackness.

Lids crack open

A small slit discloses the hollows.

It was supposed to be just for fun
but now the room is vacant,

Of colour

Of boxes

Of you.

London UK 2009/2010

There Is No Landing

Feet off the ground

breeze gracing our cores

wings outstretched 

through the cobalt skies

still early in time.

Winds gain strength

Thin air, becomes thick

Clouds mix into a blur of grey.

The distance below decreasing,

as our wings have been bruised by words.

Apologies and warmth from our skins

We regain space from the ground.

But the clock hands rapidly circle,

And it isn’t long,

before our bodies are beaten,

only skimming the surface,

Always between falling and flying.  

Brighton UK September 2009

Fun House

They left me,

Without warning,

Insisting I would enjoy.

Alone, I catch a glimpse, an array of colour -

fluorescent fur and splattered paint.

a laugh, deep from the throat

echoes in the background.

A moist coating covers my palms.

Drumming faster,

My heart fights to escape. 

Down on all fours,

dragging my body through a tight

enclosed circling cylinder.

Hands and knees skinned,

spine slammed with each rotation.

Raw wounds burn,

hair stands, static.

They never prepared me for the pain.

Finally, an opening.

The ground is taken away,

a hard yellow tongue

in its place.

Twisting, curving left, then right.

Running out,

submerged in spheres of,

blue, red, green,

encaged in black rope reaching high above.

They told me to meet them by the EXIT,

But I am stuck,

Sinking deeply in.

If they don’t come soon,

IT will seek me.

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