Tag modern poetry
and let me watch you
unfold
like the tongue
of a butterfly.
Probe my pistils
and my stamen.
I am
the rarest flower,
the chocolate orchid;
Heart of none, exhausted blank
Deaden to hopes, black holes gnashing pit
Love lays slaughtered amongst sanity’s skin
Truth bare, broken hearted growls.
Tree of life bends now tree of death,
Will for one, all for naught.
When will arid soul give way to soaring rains?
during her first steps
she cannot see through her eyes on the wings
thus she cleans her inner lens from magnifying –
with every other step she listens to her soles
Even if I’ve sagged and wrinkled
would you find me beautiful when I laughed?
Could you possibly recognize what will
be me in so many years, or will you pass me
by? Even if I do not recognize myself?
Will we ever even speak again, like we used
to, like good friends should? Or will a nose be
turned and no words spoken as we walk back out
of each other’s lives. I sometimes wish I knew,
so that the time I waste wondering is not in vain.
I wondered if I was spared or
punished by it.
See three smiling cousins,
around age eight,
spattered with mud, after
an afternoon spent playing
in the sodden, low spot in the yard
Knowing that nothing in your life is real?
The world, and you, are just so fake,
How does it feel to be something that you hate?
Wake up and dread your existence,
(I know you do)
Burn all bridges to create some distance,
(Life’s hard to get through)
The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.
They come out as whispers and rolled eyes
I blink, and a rose blooms but no one notices
I hum, and life is found on a new planet
A melody is created but they only see me walk
They see my curves but not my angles
Scarlet life joining frosted earth
A Valkyrie’s cry, a kiss fading in winter’s tide
Her touch, death’s caress?
Or life’s yearnful embrace?
She departed in a flurry of wings, took flight.
Without saying good-bye.
My passport photos are my proof.
My precious ally has found a new face
Not touched by grief, lack of sleep
And broken dreams.
bears memories buried
in the corolla of a rose,
in the odours of my childhood,
barely woken from a dream,
our tryst abandoned.
