Poetry is prayer
in life’s vicissitude:
a saving grace against
manipulated or
unmanifested odds
overwhelming without
warrant or patterning
2
I do not write the sun, storm or sea
but re-create myself and others
in verses turn time and pluck some stars
to find my way through masked trenches
witness to my sinking into mud
that curves the memories into bias
disgrace dust, sky, wind, and all relations
window of emotions I must chain
to breathe a pure breath without passion
and discover essence of beauty
spring a move towards self harmony
perfection and peace, prelude to nude
enlightenment to carve life in full
3
The faces appearing
and receding in
dark of closed eyes
don’t answer why
they aren’t winged souls
fading in the sun
I emptied before it set
in the gowns of girls
stopped from dancing barefoot:
they shake autumn in the rain
mist blurs the image
water spills in shady pool
4
The sun couldn’t help
nor fish protect:
river has no sex
so it dried up
trapped in its own banks
5
This chilly night
she folds her arms and legs
resting her head
upon the knees and sits
as an island
6
Ghosts rise to mate
in moonlight tear the tombs
frighten with fingers
rhino horns rock the centre
granite sensation
7
Shadows
spring from night
whispering darkness
fog the streetlight
and I walk
alone
against wind
unseen and unheard
glide
into dreams
create circles
of longings
or spin wheels
of miracles
with blind faith
drug genes and
drone out psalms
in void
8
I know a fire burns
the thumb-sized flame
beyond the heart
restlessly I seek
light in shadow
forget the sun
I feel its heat
and see the light
by light itself
9
Seeking fire in the
furnace of delight I fail
to weld my fragments
into one lasting love:
I act delusive orgasm
to get out of myself
tear dreams in holes
live bit by bit, in pieces
restive as ever
10
The games I couldn’t play
the adversaries I made
unliving the sun
in field undoing
the ense air with spray
prove I’m obsolete
in a land of scams
God seems irrelevant and
altruism is preposterous
kind of naivety
or doubletalk they think right
poets are good but foolish
11
I’m dying to connect
myself to your navel love
and feel your heart beat
inside your breast space
cared by blood at your altar
sip life in your flame
12
You were so near yet
I couldn’t reach your body:
half-risen sun
I couldn’t rise to embrace
half-met eyes
half-said prayer
13
As I repose
in the wrinkles
of her face
I feel her crimson
glow in my eyes
her holy scent
grows inside
a sea of peace
multiplies
in the mind
14
The eruptions and scars remind
how weak we are
fighting ourselves we fight others
disrupt balance
O mother, I fear diseases
born from within
15
Again the stone-cool city
frightens the oval existence
downward in black moment
swamps of labour will vanish
in fume I see no prayers:
who can hope to dial new angels
when most have turned Cubist cock
rivaling small spooks underground
tempting vulgar feats with awnings?
16
The darkening clouds
and shapes of jungle animals
won’t disappear with rains
but stay in my eyes
with icy nights waving tails
in dreams or blazing time
the whimpering sun
with diamond tides won’t burn the sea
nor obscure miracles
round evening when tired
of sand trapped between toes
I prick the vacuum in soul
I can see through strange tales
winds spin across chessboard
whether playing or watching:
myths of victory weigh heavy
it’s better I keep quiet
lest the earth mourn poet’s truth
17
I don’t understand
why dogs defecate at our
gate, lawn and backyard
I don’t understand
their gossip denouncing me
in corner meetings
it’s no use throwing
stones or chasing them away
they love smell of earth
the bitches’ bottom
in season sexcites, they can’t
control their passion
they are uneasy
in our presence but leave filth
for others to clean
let’s ignore them
they’re dogs and detractors
defecating, barking
at the gate, backyard
street corners they have it off
to ease their tension
18
In the name of faith
and God
politics fuels bigotry
strips the prophets
corrupts clarity
reasoning ceases
when mind purveys prejudice: cake carts disposable