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All posts for the month October, 2012

High Tide

Published October 6, 2012 by allovus1

Here I stand, alone
accusing

A woman of half light
Claws barely sheathed

Consumed by anger, desire
and a terrible love

Blaming you for
days without dreams
a half life of broken promises
and raped delusions
resisting an overwhelming impulse
to devour you
crush all that you are
passionately, with a dedication that pulverises you.

As with the tide
I gush forth;
Bubbling simultaneous
Enthusiasm, frustration and despair.

And then lie still;
Empty dreadful and alone.

There are moments when all is calm. Equal.
Hence I stand and say:
I defy you, I adore you, I love you I hate you.

I acknowledge your simplicity,
Recognise your submission
to muted dreams and capabilities-
your compromised existence,
your confined aspirations.

As the sea to the land
Gradually I would erode you
Whittle away at your very core
Undermine your bedrock
Consume you;

Laying You Bare.

I challenge you then;

Face me, day after day;
As I rush at you relentlessly
Beating at you: Smashing at your Surface:
Eating away at all that you are:

– Resting awhile –
Resting, Resuming
Resting, Resuming

Until: no more
But an Echo
On an Empty Shore…

Preamble

Published October 5, 2012 by allovus1

The grave may be a ‘fine and private place’

But I Need not be so final;

I have concocted me a plan

To flee the ‘vox et praeterea nihil’

 

I shall build for me a bathroom

of marvelous proportions

and gladly spend my time therein

celebrating my good fortune.

 

The rules of entry will be simple:

No one need apply;

Save those poor few remaining

with tastes the same as I.

 

Gifts will be welcome: nay, essential;

(any wine before  ’99)

And though caviar I do not like

Herring Eggs will do just fine.

 

There shall we dine on Spanish salad

doused in vinaigrette;

and maintain a constant vigil

of smoldering cigarettes…  

 

As we wait in spirit with

the two beside the tree

Hoping that the shepherd boy

heralds the return of McCavity.

 

We shall read aloud our Oscar Wilde

and contemplate Grecian Urns

as we in common collocation

mourn the Circus Animal’s Return

look at me

Published October 4, 2012 by allovus1

a child with ancient eyes

Remember the paintings I’d

do at Christmas carefully

staying by the lines

can you hear me calling

out for you, don’t let your

feelings dry up now.

You’re my story.

It may be cold and old

you’re not crying?

a little more time and you can believe me

I’m going to wait for you.

Because you’re going to talk for me.

Soon.