Dogdays

See worldsweat

daysunk

sounddead

braintorn

blackday

bite.

 

The above poem first appeared in decomP, and is part of my first book Reeling (2012).

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The Trees From My Friend’s House

yesterday were so beautiful

how the sky slowly opened up

through the leaves

in the morning

it was like a sea

the grey-brown branches

spread wide

and the birds chirped

while the light

came in

I stayed in bed

warm under the blanket

watching this

I was planning

to leave for home

early

to avoid

the sun

and take in

the milk

at my door

but then

it felt so good

my mind wouldn’t tell

my body to get up

I had become quiet

I just sat there

in the cool December air

and looked

out the window

for hours

lost to myself

drowned in the scene

outside

in the warmth

of the mild golden sunlight

seeping in

through the green leaves

singing so sweetly

in the breeze

and beyond that

the blue sky was peeping

through the floating white clouds

while small black

crows flew cawing

and my friend slept

peacefully next to me.

At Juhu Beach Yesterday

there were so many people

so chilled out

so many women

whose lips I wanted to kiss

and the sky

and the sea

merging beautifully

and then a tiny beggar girl

who went past me

talking baby talk

sounded like an old woman

worn

her life

sand in the breeze

that voice shook me

to the bone

it was like

some withered ghost woman

speaking from a cave

and the sea

and the crowd

disappeared into a cloud

and on my way home

the busy mad streets

the dark buildings

growing like monster concrete trees

the traffic the noise

slowly faded

and then the lights coming on

everywhere

also faded

from my mind

remembering that beggar girl’s eyes

and thinking of our different lives

under the darkening face

of the uncomprehending skies.

 

The above poem is from my third book The Branches (2015).