Calypso

Her dark eyes held forgotten memories and sold secrets. With the ocean crashing and breaking around her bare ankles, she gathered her skirts carefully, almost as if she was gathering her courage. From between her legs came a deep call, a whirlpool of a current of maddening desire, overpowering rationality and bringing her gasping, begging for a visit from sin. A full moon rose, big and lonely, occupying the night sky, taunting and teasing her pheromones, haunting her waking dreams.

His hands absent from her skin.

Her lips meet only air as his words fall from grace, turning from promises into lies. She gathered her skirts, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of her fingers clenched tightly upon the silks, almost to the point of breakage. As her heart beats to the rhythm of the rising tide, she turns her face defiantly up to the moonlight. Insanity whispered softly , sweetly invocating her infatuation. With the stable half of her mind gone, and with barely enough control, she breaks her skirts, tearing the fabric as if she was tearing at her soul. Tears going home.

His hands absent from her skin.

Alone and walking naked, she was welcomed into the sea. Memories drowned and secrets unraveled as her tears went home. From between her legs, the call rang hollow and unanswered. From within her heart, love manifested into wreckage as its call echoed back unrequited.

His hands

Beautiful in its uselessness

Perfect like a professionally-taken photograph

His words

Rare as its occasion

Perfect like prose poetry

Air

Quickly becoming a scarce commodity

As the sea claims her and damn

His hands absent from her skin.

Mr Ananth

A month has passed in darkness and despair,

I fell and skinned my knees and

I adorn myself with black.

The loss was unbearable,

The anguish a symphony of fear,

Robbing me of air and faith.

My soul is forever tied to his,

and even though my future no longer has a crutch,

I remember him with admiration.

He was my saviour and

this unwarranted tragedy has taught me to be on my own,

to believe in myself and my limitless potential.

I mourn my loss and I mourn for his family,

The best man in the world no longer with us,

We cope, knowing his legacy beats within our hearts.

I love him for trusting me,

I've been angry and abandoned,

But when I close my eyes,

his smile, his soul comforts me from afar.

I raise a glass of whiskey to his memory.

And on that note,

Hallelujah.

Final Quarter of This Year

I bask in the heat,

Under a blue, blue sky,

I close my eyes.

My mind free, finally,

from thoughts of you.

Two years passed without change,

without growth.

The day you broke my heart

was the day

I took my first untainted breath.

I collect myself from the ashes you burned,

pieces of me like shells on a shore,

scattered and surrounded by dirt.

I brush the dust off my heart and

it begins to beat again,

no longer stagnant,

no longer dictated.

I turn my back on you,

and he catches me as I stumble.

An unexpected, ineffable gift,

I breathe free as I breathe him in.

Man O' War

When the light comes out of hiding,

I am left standing alone, amazed, enchanted,

The world had disappeared into darkness

And September brought an end to the eclipse.

Every day is a discovery,

I am running, content

I begin to dream again,

To speak and laugh, absolutely free.

Patterned ink cover my hands,

I adorn them with culture.

My name is finally familiar to me,

Memories disjointed but easily recognised,

The past year was a notion of loss and fear,

desperation in love,

I stopped breathing, stopped singing.

A jellyfish in the ocean restored my faith,

I begin to eat and pray,

I begin to hope for belief in love.

My light eluded me,

Now it's all behind me and

I stand alone, regal and amazing.

I Am No Man

It matters not that love was created and
Invented about the wit and humour of man
It matters not that the night shall wax and wane
That the tide shall take its leave of us
And return in due time
It matters not that love requires an epiphany
It matters not that love is a sophist, a masochist and a sadist
For it had been founded upon the heart of man
Of which hath the attention span of shit
That love shall wilt
It matters not
For I am a woman
And I go by no man's rules
I shall love thee 'til my last breath
I shall love thee with a kind of love
That besieges a woman
Of which is immortal

Sound the Bells

The moon hangs low in the sky,
my eyelashes thick with smoke and
my hands shaking,
I walk alone in the dark.
It has been a month of worry,
passing unremarkably in a haze of espresso and books.
My soul is weary and my skin longs to meet the sun.
I am in the final hours
of the week deciding my future
and I can no longer stand,
my lungs aching and my tears drying.
There is nobody holding my hand,
no words of concern and encouragement.
I walk alone in the dark.
A week from now,
I see only darkness.

Wondermilk

i am content being alone,
surrounded by colours.

lomo cameras and photography jargon,
i wonder if they know of profound connection,
meditation and rosary beads.
their eyelashes reaching up to the sky,
their gaze empty of comprehension but
alight with enthusiasm.

strange music drift along,
uneven beats and thoughtless lyrics.
how beautiful silence is in comparison,
the constant companion of deserts and oceans.

menthol cigarettes and virgin margaritas,
my friends embrace me with love,
a birthday like no other,
a heart broken like always before,
a bouquet of red roses
from a new acquaintance.

in my corner,
i dream out loud,
coffee and peace on my mind,
twenty-one is a good number.



.............written January 16, 2010....................