sun-day ...

I could claim that
I do not love you ... yet

I could say to gut deep stand in
crazy debris, mine and others’
(is there any difference?)
hardly hurts at all,
but then i would be lying.

Hidden sun shines rain to road
I just need to find it
in myself

not in growling heart's projection
or white space gasp
between
the dead and dying
metaphors still bleeding
road-kill tales on melting tarmac

dreams and so, for shine's sake,
I do not blame the rain for
loving you ... now

cats and poetry

The poem below was a poetry-site challenge - emulate the style and themes of Jack Kerouac. After several futile attempts i gave up in disgust, went to bed, asked Kerouac's spirit if he could sober up long enough to help me out. Pow! It started then ... i didn't win the challenge but i do feel that Kerouac "popped in" since this is so not my usual style *grin.

Since then, however, Muse has been very, very coy with me, to the point of my fearing she has just left town altogether. Darn it, does this mean i may have to get a 3d life and go out after all? *humph*

Cat Wars continues to frustrate me. The tortoise-shell curly tail who has adopted me as her preferred maternity ward is a very bossy character and my gentle Jez is not impressed. The chilled-out man-cat who has also adopted me is lovely to Jez and quite happy to jump on Tobi's head to get his point across, but even Rusty is looking at me like "and what were you thinking?"

So, while i'll be glad (ecstatic actually) if you like the poem, all in all it's been an *errgghh sort of week! Excuse me, i hear the sounds of shredding ... oops there goes another sofa!

whole heap of mad (Kerouac style)

wishful thinking ...

Tender night streams in through open window.
Cool air and calm lay subtle kiss and soft
embrace of hope on skin, gift quiet thought and
dream with moments yet untouched by time

Would your touch, when you at last find me,
drifting in soft breezes and night scents,
be gentle, would your breath allow me mine?
It’s time to wake, will you kiss me now?

*image: Jim Crompton

sunrise will ... (revised)

You fooled me when you
touched. Gentility
hid anger.
Later, marked flesh
showed me who you really are.

and I

always showing who I am
willed this test of me
be done,
be done with you,
false affection bearing

chains

that dragged wild sunrise
some place
south of
never-risen red.
You feared my passion.

now I

breathe alone in quiet joy.
I will not fail
to spill
your touch,
slow poison draining.

*image: Freydoon Rassouli