Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Stitches

''And in the morning it rained.''

''...she was so beautifully out of contact.''

Blood red, her eyes latch on to you.

''tinged with repulsion, amounting almost to love.''

Though they never knew you moved, they knew you were there.

''Her limbs had a certain stillness.''

It's windy out there, isn't it?

And she knew that no one cared.



Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Witches

They danced a thousand songs
and they never did no wrong.

Dance with me, dear witches.

Burning through my soul.
Voices whisper gently..
He's craving for your breath
Voices whisper gently
It's you he will undress

And he whispers,
with a softened, golden glow
The witches, are tearing at my clothes.

Dancing with the witches.

Temporary blisters,
burrowed in your skin.
Careful, say the witches,
Time is wearing thin.


Friday, 16 December 2011

The Swan

The other night I had a horrible dream. In my dream I could see a swan that was bruised and covered in blood, cowering, below a man, who was beating it with a bat. He was beating this beautiful living creature to death with a baseball bat. The swan was looking at me as if for help; agonising sadness in its pure, black eyes. And I could do nothing, I was helpless. I woke myself up sobbing.
The image in my dream stuck with me the whole day, and it provoked a feeling in me that I could not shake.
The look in the swans eyes stuck with me the most, its eyes provoked me because the swan portrayed the same emotions that I feel - sadness, helplessness, pain - human emotions. Humans and animals share the same emotions and feelings.
How can we inflict pain on other living creatures that breathe and feel, just as we do?

Friday, 9 December 2011

Tree Man

Aware of my presence,
Breath and feeling.

By my window he is a comfort to me
most nights and mornings,
He is still and silent.
Other times the wind stirs his movements and he moves with the flow,
sometimes violently,
other times subtle and soft.

He breathes, as I breathe
with the wind and the birds.

A vital presence in the remoteness of silence.