tetra

I am one of six
Tag!
I chase your silver
Tail and four more
Fall behind.

These walls are glass,
Infinite,
But flitting among
These plastic grasses, I
Don't even think about that,

I just think about
Tag!
Now I am in the lead!

tough

Small dark space, I know every
Wrinkle within here.
I can touch all my limits, I
Know where I am,
Know where everything is.

Outside these walls, the
Chaos lurks, I can hear
Birds, sirens, screams
And laughter.

I am growing, I know, and this
Case won't hold me forever, but
I curl up, trying to hold this
Moment, hold the safety of now.

What will do it? A persistent
Bird, a hungry rodent, or just
The fall from this height, at
Which I lightly swing?

What will release me?

what middle way?

Always leaping in reaction.

First chasing the sun,
Gamboling faun utopia,
Gods on the lawn
Verdant and nymph-filled
Pastoral and domestic bliss.
And a bright boy, blonde smile,
With a wholesome, sunny laugh.

Then
Spun from Eden, whirling
Into dark shadows seeking
A pale night dweller,
A picture with
Edges singed by dark fires
Cool body to share
A moonlit altar

Always seeking a hand up
Out of the creeping suburban normality
That pulls like the muck that sucks off your boot.

of pictou

It's insidious, that
After 20 years uprooted,
Transplanted to this city I love,
A few hours back and my feet will barely
Heave from the dirt, so
Heavy with the weight of
All that I have been.

My heart is given to
Urban dreams of cafes
And concerts and crowds,
But here, that vision is overlaid with dirt
Road, bonfires, guitars and
Country twang, the lingering warmth
Of being wrapped in a blanket that smells
Like doughnuts, mom and home.

I must drag myself from this
Woven bed of expectations, dreams,
Security and hurt, and unfurl myself
Back in the light of my real life.


(Still rough, bear with me)

doggerel: In vino veritas

I used to believe in divination,
Search the skies
And others' eyes
for portents of the divine

But now I don't read tea leaves,
For saying of sooth
For honest truth
I search a bottle of wine

-cmby 09

cherry jam

In your sleep you're younger,
Sweeter,
Innocent almost.
Not the
Violet explosion you
Made in my
pastel life

I remember my 9th birthday
The first taste of layer cake,
The centre not frosting but
My mom's cherry jam

The surprise, the unexpected
Sweet and tart revealed
The way the line of red cut
Through the blond cake, making
It new, and more exciting.

I think I must have woken up
Because I'm hungry.

whispers

this is a confection, a
meringue,

melting on my tongue
even now

but even while it
will fade, is fading,
as we all cascade past fixed points in time

you will stay in my mind this way:
lithe, pale,
dark eyes,
hard muscles,
a surprise of soft skin and
gentle touch and
the
joy
that
makes me
laugh.

the edges of everything softened by the darkness,
the decadence of beer and late night and memory,
the outlined brilliance of drama and discovery.


Is there ever a present that
won't make me look
ahead to how I will remember it
with affection when it is done?