April 8 - Hanging On

The ground wet with slime sucked
my feet until they swelled
like two red rubber Crocs.
Branches like arms of scarecrows
poked and scratched
at me until my knees hit the grass.
Splashes of muddy rainwater
taunted me in slow motion
and splattered my face brown.
I fell to meet the slug wriggling
in sinuous obscene motions
that said "I won! I won!"
The trail was lost, washed away
in a bath of ethnic cleansing.
I crawled to the side and wrung
my arms around a twine, swaying
like a leaf on a twig and justice
came in the form of slaps
of rain on my face.

April 7 - Anxiety

Mist stood in front of you and coloured
your forehead as black as a toothache,
as you waited for her to extract
the agony from your brain.

She dug deep into the root and licked
your hands until they were cripplingly
wet and poked your eyes
into bloody balls of poo.

April 6 - Rats

She sat and prayed for healing
of her friend's mother. The tongue
detected the scurrying of rats
on the roof, feeling
but not understanding
the language, wanting to seek
a glimpse of the loner
among the group a hundred mile away.


She jumped
up to check for burglars,
the rats trying to escape
the body once holy, to seek
the santuary of their king's lair.
Silence.
The rats sniffed her out;
then on lighter feet to fool her,
they tried to slip out of her prayers.
Silence again,
forever.


When dawn arrives she will know.
The pain is gone.

April 5 - Incoherent

Words tangled in colours
tumbled from your lips
to mangle into unseen shades
of creases on your face.

You tried to string them
into windchimes but they fell
into the hinges of the door
and creaked like curses at her.

April 4 - I see no colours (2)

I see your eyes;
the slant at the corners,
now broken free
from the dying echo
of a caged flamingo,
evangelised into sweet
mountain air tapping
on your neck, forgetting
its shapes but pregnant
with the music it carries.

April 3 - Tongue-tied

Words rolled up your sleeves
tightly woven into threads
that yearned to form
the fabric etching her breasts.

As ghosts tiptoed on your tongue,
evading the hymns in your hands,
they closed their eyes and coloured
the words hollow.

April 2 - Love

Colour her like a tattoo
and let the ink imprison
her like an allergy
until it seeps into the throb
of her heart where it will bloom
in her blood and trap you
inside her, swimming
like a fish among corals.

April 1 - I see no colours (1)

I see your hair,
black yesterday, brown today
and perhaps red tomorrow.
It doesn't matter.
The dreads are gone now
and straight strands remain
to reflect the whispers
of an ocean's tune
that spans the earth
like a breath of mint.

Hanging On

The ground wet with slime sucked
my feet until they swelled
like two red rubber Crocs.
Branches like arms of scarecrows
poked and scratched
at me until my knees hit the grass.
Splashes of muddy rainwater
taunted me in slow motion
and splattered my face brown.
I fell to meet the slug wriggling
in sinuous obscene motions
that said "I won! I won!"
The trail was lost, washed away
in a bath of ethnic cleansing.
I crawled to the side and wrung
my arms around a twine, swaying
like a leaf on a twig and justice
came in the form of slaps
of rain on my face.

The Snow In Life

I know winter by the flakes that fall
and their edgy patterns of softness;

how they can stack up against the wall
like a crack to divide our world,

and how we can stand and watch them melt
like a snowman standing in a garden

at the change of season when the snow blends
once more into our lives and it's too late

to ask if we should erase the blow
before it hardens or collect the water as it melts.