and did we scuttle
like some scarab beetle
down naked streets.
the light pulsing ...
a baby asleep
becotted and calm,
as the mother dreams
beneath the drone of a disconnected TV programme
swimming amongst families
dodging in and out of the lanes
as crystal cutting waters
depart
my day
Saturday 29 May 2010
Sunday 18 April 2010
Neon Light
I watched neon light explode. It meant nothing as the shots rang out, drilling holes in the walls. Letting in the starlight pinprick void.
It traced your body.
Long departed, but I saw you chasing down the shadows as I moved from room to room in search. What lies behind number 47?
It traced your body.
Long departed, but I saw you chasing down the shadows as I moved from room to room in search. What lies behind number 47?
When we are sick ...
When we are sick we lie becalmed, eyes dull and loose-limbed. And the stillness penetrates our soul, like stars stuck deep in the coaled sky. Just a universe away.
We wait. For time to rise, for times we crawled across floors to seek out new pleasures. Spinning tops and the rich tapestry carpet beneath our young flesh.
Little Lamper, I was once as you. Eyes bright and crawling. I can hear the hum still of my spinning top, a train racing round in endless circles. I set off once on a journey to find it, hidden a million miles across the snake-traced carpet.
I'm still searching, Little Lamper. May I crawl a while with you?
We wait. For time to rise, for times we crawled across floors to seek out new pleasures. Spinning tops and the rich tapestry carpet beneath our young flesh.
Little Lamper, I was once as you. Eyes bright and crawling. I can hear the hum still of my spinning top, a train racing round in endless circles. I set off once on a journey to find it, hidden a million miles across the snake-traced carpet.
I'm still searching, Little Lamper. May I crawl a while with you?
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