That Void

That void is there you know, that hole…
That perpetual pain that eats away

Like rats nibbling on dreams
abandoned to the silence

Like forgotten wedding photographs
in lifeless, lonely corners

Like spent matches and wooden pegs
beside a white, wood oven

Like embers that never moved an inch
from beneath the blackened cauldron

Like books and toys and Christmas lights
in musty, dusty, drawers

Like the echoes of humanity
in a house with great acoustics

Whispers of the Fog

Whispers of the fog came to me this morning
To me the foggy one
The lover of the dawns and the dusks
Tucked in books
Wrapped in papers
And pregnant pauses
In faces grimacing
Staring outwardly
Contorted by thoughts
At times by sleep
Or the droning engine
Then in those windows
I saw that stoop, that gait
It was yours!
I recognised it at once
Then and there I knew
How much I love you
That you’ll stay with me forever
Both in my stoop and in my gait

Splinters

Airborne cups and saucers
Forks and wooden spoons
Harbingers of Hades
In our little concrete heaven

The witch has flipped again
Egged on by a shadow
Rabid eyes and gnashing teeth
Glimmer after midnight

Nowhere to hide from the spell,
From this hell of hate and gloom
Of reddened cheeks
And runny noses

Hands tremble
Voices rise
Into a crescendo of pain
And desperate crawling

Bleating babies
Bleeding hearts
Bloodied knuckles
Broken doors

Splinters in their ferry-floss
Tiny shards of glass
Oh Just a little superglue

For their soul’s fractured pieces

Perpendicular Bluffs

Perpendicular bluffs have shaped our lives
Parched fields and scorching summers

The wafting, ever-lingering scent of childhood memories
Drying in the tepid light

And I who thought I knew so much
Will never learn the language of the wind

Will stand here on my own in the comfort of my soliloquy
Deafened by the silence

And those riddles I have striven so long to decipher, I never will
As I too have become a dissenting salmon

Descending down-stream instead
Letting the rapids carry me where they will…