The steam erased my face
and I thought this is the truest reflection
I’ve always wished to be faceless
so no one can demand expression
my lips don’t always crease right to the moment
and other people’s mouths pull tight around laughter
that the tightness is meant to hide
because it’s at my expense
embarrassment shades my cheeks
as I try to find the right shape
a formation of lines that are up or down
to draw emotion
as they lean with expectation
like they do when leading horses to do tricks
but I mustn’t get it right
or maybe it’s them, their faces that aren’t appropriate?
but no it must be mine because everyone agrees it’s me
my expression always drawn on by crayon
crooked and out of kilter to the moment
Poetry
Death is human
I am much too tired to keep up the chase
Embroiled in this decline
All my friends, they die
And that would be okay
If I had faith
That the cycles of life weren’t being erased But what the fuck is there left to say?
As I suckle from the teat Knowing no better way?
There was a time when even death teemed with life
It seems no coincidence
Our depiction of death
is the skeleton
Of a fellow homosapien
A counter to life ‘isn’t beautiful’ << I hate that word though
The clouds descend but then they clear away
the rain giving life to parched greenery
A bittern booms in the periphery
a little egret pirouettes, unfurling into an epiphany
A heron circles like a twisted rope
giving room for a flicker of hope
as he lands down in his dishevelled robes
how dare the sun
The sun was shining through the leaves
A kaleidoscope of rays
How dare the sun peak through
While I’m sitting here missing you
Life isn’t beautiful
I’m tired of life
It’s always full of emptiness
we fill our time with TV
And any other screens
moving wallpaper over the teeth
underneath
that grind us
Tonight I don’t care for that nature’s green
it’s all a rollercoaster ride
beneath those canopies
pain and suffering hide
At least in winter, it’s plain to see
illusions revealing their skeletal remains
A butterfly isn’t beautiful
it’s a flutter of a moment
it’s death painted pretty
A blackbirds song isn’t melodic
it’s desperation dressed as music
trying to hang onto dear life
and I have to ask, why?
Predator vs prey : peregrine falcon
There’s a peregrine falcon in the sky
He’s hunting me and I don’t know why
Did I fall down the rabbit hole
And become a little mouse or mole? Maybe a little bird up in the trees Perhaps I’m a little goldcrest up in the pines
Trying not to be his faveroute feast On which to dine
Is this alchemy or are we human to humus
Is this alchemy
or are we just fools?
Looking for silver lines
where there is no gold
Is a clod of earth just dirt to us?
Something to cleanse away
as if we didn’t come from the dust
that we will return to one day
Deaths cradle
the waves snap
at the edge
time chiselled in rocks
debris of war
aka life
a fossilised anguish
deep in the core of us
my brown eyes
darkening waters
the world a periphery vision
separating me from you
falling into the black
and I shall kick up no resistance
a night of forever
whispers me to sleep
in deaths cradle
NaPoWriMo: Music & Rage
You set my rage on fire
I sat back
let it ravage me like a lover
I had never had
stepped out into the music
and wore it on my skin
the notes were magical hoops
I could sway within
praying to the rhythm
for something akin to forgiveness
or maybe just something like release
The music forgot you were the muse
my anger wished to paint red
and because the music and I became one
like lovers
my heart was racing
to the finish line
till the cigarettes smoked
between our lips
to tell us of our casual slips
A cancerous kiss
NaPoWriMo: Life and death
It could be as was said
I’m preoccupied with death
but first to be so
you must see life
so really it’s an obsession with life
and the death therewithin
and the life therewithin the death
a tangled knot
It’s a noticing what one is and what one is not
and seeing the intricacies in telling between the two
it’s more complicated than you’d think
death fuels life
life fuels death
Knowing this doesn’t ease the pain though
when the time comes
it’s only human to cry and mourn
and that’s what keeps me coming back to this
thinking about those we’ve lost
and aligning the emotions with the facts
But I keep having to relearn
that our emotions are almost always
many steps behind the facts.
By the time they’re on the same track
something else comes along
takes you right back
and you wonder if the pain will ever leave.
Watching as the world goes on
it’s indifference a punch to the gut
why can’t it stop
like your breath did
you wonder
til you remind yourself
it’s because death and life are brother and sister
and then you wonder some more
and remind yourself again
till your brain is sore
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 