liarsong

when people lie
there is a physical reaction:
skies hark;
lillies die.

(and walls crumble
and tears fall
and roads twist
and leaves crawl)

when poets lie
there is a physical reaction:
filthy thumbs throb
kinky dead sing
dirty windows wake
and petty loves stink

(and walls crumble
and tears fall
and roads twist
and leaves crawl)

when lovers lie
there is a physical reaction:
the shepherds sing
and minds bawl
and lepers kiss
and poems stall--

hkufavtr

i wish i was a
(fall poet singing leaf and)
tale in ba sing se

the late summer

ah, here it comes:
like an impending heatwave
mentioned on the news, by a friend,
between the sweaty sheets of two lovers
blasting through the skies
albeit with a girlish elegance
showering one body with rays of gold,
as his steps come out of his mind
for the first time in a long time.
and you know what, then he looks around
and sees his body in this world
feels the irrepressible scream of a seagull in his heart
hears the children's careless thoughts wandering in the streets
and yes! yes! he looks around:
as this tender shining beckons him kindly,
he raises his head,
and bows and his brows relax;
he blinks his eyes once, very slowly...
and he says, he says,
- eyes closed, lids covered by bliss -
this is going to be my mind,
at last;
this is going to be my world,
at last;
this is going to be my day,
at last!

monologue?

i won't die, i suppose?
this is my history, after all
i liked looking at the sunshine
and i liked smiling at people
sometimes, i hoped for a good day
once a year, i cried for a friend
and i longed for a long holiday
without any care, at all.

i won't die, i think?
i made people smile?
i made people think?
then again, i made people cry...
insisting my love meant everything.

i won't die, i hope?
still, i've got people to kiss?
and have my lovely dog to pat!
i've got someone's tiny butterflies in my huge tummy
and most importantly,
still haven't read the sound and the fury!

i won't die!
you hear me?
this is my history!
i am the one who writes it,
and i will be the one to end it!
whether you like it or not-
oh, my, god.

daydream

smile interrupted on the stroll?
head looks to a side:

what heartbreak! what fear!
ebbing from
a disconsolate figure
of a man standing there
looking you in the eye
meaning well, maybe?
possibly, possibly.

know him;
about, heard
of, thought and
recalled
retrospectively
constructed
shared
memories
preserved like derided souvenirs
bought nonchalantly
but increasing in value sinisterly
day by day
minute by minute
moment by moment...

...and now, this man, whose sorrow
your doing,
hears with those broken eyes of his:
what tranquillity... what solace...
what you have, he has not;
what he feels, you do not.

so you still smile,
so miniscule a flinch in your gait
while subtly waking up from this sudden day time slumber
having just felt the soft squeeze on your arm
coming from your sweet new lover.

erratic

i changed my mind,
i gave my old one to someone else;
and i changed my mind.

i changed my mind,
for a dime and a quart:
i changed my mind.

the old one stank and stank,
couldn't get rid of the stink;
so i changed my mind.

i lifted it throbbing,
the aching ooze sticking,
it was hard at the beginning;
but i changed my mind.

telling me i can do anything:
the buyer, bandaged, haphazard,
mistook me for a king lizard,
then took and changed my mind.

now i sit still with a dead pet on my lap.
with a bottle of whiskey and a cent on my eye,
trying to figure out what to do with my new I
and whether i can seal my head
to sit still till the end of time.

the tiny tear

slip through an eye,
trickle down the nose,
tarry for a second:
a taste for the lips...
then slide down the neck
after carressing the chin
and melt on the heart
feeding the pain within.