Saturday, July 26, 2014

Ruse


There is that
A dream asleep
Flaming eyes
Crooked whim
Rouse the intrigue
Wrong, then real
Awake yet?

[Oct 6, 2013]

Toolbox


Gash cable. Vein-opener
Skin glider. Paperknife
Stone scissors. Glue lies
Word emulsifier. Deceit brush
Stamped faith. Sealed eyes
Wrangled wedges. Memory dust
And a branded truth tape

[July 19, 2014]

Trial


Shining hour | Routine high
A chair of lies | Holds fort
Indolent chatter | Canopies of pride
The jury confers | Curious ears
As the air fills | With snug delight
Farces huddle | In rugged bonhomie
Ringing lights | Clinking notes
The key witness | Honourable deceit
Under oath | Unwavering
Accused |
Wronged, it waits | Crushing faith
As the hapless clock | Grim, ticks
Verdict then | Drowning din
Truth is tied | In second place.

[Dec 18, 2013]


Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Script


Stage these words
They knock unexpected
Cobalt afternoons
To play and run away
A dream ice-cream cone
Caught in glittering eyes
On a rainy day
Out of breath, dripping wet

Stage these words
They hide in green rooms
As the cyclorama shimmers
Light and wind lashing
That golden sheen
On a brazen screen
They never truly show
Cast only a hint
Distant hazy, warm dewy
Shadows of the roles you play

Stage these words
They watch you rehearse
Behind the blinding white
Against limelight
Bared before all
Yet nobody will see
They filch your shoe
Just before curtains rise
Step along the wings
Fiddle with your mirrors
Stuffed suitcases
Rummage, fling, all over
Sword and scarf
Only to find, lay them back
Nimble, softly, one at a time
A lone checkered pocket
  
Stage these words
They spin to the tune
Out of step and frantic
Whistling as they go
In irreverent melody
Like the top swirls red
On the familiar terrace
When a door is left ajar
In the glistening streets
Edgy, drenched
Soon dusty, sunlit
Meet the bicycle bell

Stage these words
They confound actors
Prompt false lines, overwrite
Bioscope wordplay
Tell tales of fire
Still, rage, desire
Distract, deflect, inkblot shapes
Across the rustic fence
A crossroad faraway
Walk through the wild grass
When you turn back
Lock in intractable gaze

Stage these words
They block your way
Bystanders, passersby
Stun striding stilts, wanderers at will
Conjure train sets, break into song
Rough pitch, off-key
Watch a tepid sea dark
Crash more than once
Rocks and breeze
They fuse lyrics, old favourites
Waylay you, by the stairs
Dot, square, deal
Unscript what was to be
Strictly to script

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Rafted


Raft ashore
Stumbles once
A dream rolled
Into a thin paper pipe
A blue bottle
Of liquid memory
In what is unsaid
Alive calls

Route-22


That windscreen 
Blinked as he left
A distant second
Dishevelled, disarrayed
Bleary-eyed, stared
Tinted rain
In roads unseen
Waited, darkly met

Stranger storm
Called to say
This unknown pace
Brought blazing winds
Hoary lightning
Can't only be
Some different way

Milestones walk
With memories
Proud, they watch
Race petrol vapour
Trailing dust
Fading smoke
It’s Route-22
Cast away
Roadblock orange
Won't the highway
Ever slow down
Breathless stop
At the caution board
And wave

This hypnotic dashboard
Sings awhile
When gears and tyres
Confused, unwarned
Roll and gather sheen
And no one tells him
That he's been shadowed
Once before
That a dream cascade
Has been there since time
Under construction

One Hundred


It was to be. A dizzying whiff of words. Mixed in the air. Like a blue vein had cut through pale skin. Remembered. That golden, audacious sight melted every wall. Diffused the ink, brewed cold ash. The acidic cacophony of colour. Left a gash. Wrapped amid rising grass. As a withering yellow rustle trailed behind. Crept, knelt, and breathed low. A touch of a song rose from somewhere. Nebulous, hovering, falling. Drowned everything. Then that haunting ripple. Entered his fearful heart. Pulse pouncing. Impish, smiling, caught in an afternoon getaway.

Like the din of an evening's laugh. Ringing breeze. Hiding in a light-less, crowded corner. In confused rain, familiar banter, and a damning conspiracy. It was to be.