Rothko (2nd draft)

Caught within
a wire mesh cloud,
skin torn like wool
on a barbed wire fence.

In a field that smells of cinder
and charred fence posts
ashen lily petals crackle
in cellophane puddles.

You stand out like a stare,
the way you caught my eye
then blinked,

heavy lidded,
a swollen tongue,
thick and wet
licked across the sky.

Submission (2nd draft)

the last thing i said to you
is 'don't leave me here'

we played
until our knuckles bled
and our hands resembled
branches seared
by lightening

invisible, i pace the room
playing hide and seek
with the cracks in the wood
poking my fingers through
to touch the wind

the smell of you lingers,
i strip down, discard
your touch, smear
traces of a song
across the walls

it continues to rain
long after the
breathing stops

But For The Moment - Henri Cartier Bresson

"the decisive moment, it is the
simultaneous recognition, in a fraction
of a second, of the significance of an
event as well as the precise organization
of forms which gives that event
its proper expression."

The travelling circus, the leaping giant
the separation of shadow and man
the glass eye shutting closed
on past and present

on the railings, a witness
nonplussed at the prospect
of the birth of two worlds
in a wormhole
a poem is a lake
he is drenched in it and yet dry

we can flip the world like a flickbook,
a ticket, change the destination
to the past tense and launch
ourselves into the pool
to at once and finally connect
with ourselves

He is held in the air like a breath
in the cold, balancing on the tip
of a second hand
a slide projector's mistake
smudged on reality
plunging back into itself to disappear

but for the moment.

Metal Shoes

Metal shoes line the river bank

the Danube is leaden
with stolen souls
It is not her fault bodies
wade through her silt underbelly

She is thick with regret
and ripe with rebellion
sprouting parliament lush
with new shoots
on her shoulders

stroking the bridges

as she swims by

Tell us something we don't know (unfinished) - Barbara Kruger

Eyes rolled like eggs
in the cutlery drawer
The coffee stains on the rug
began to bleed
That looks uncomfortable

I gathered the eyes in a pan
lit the gas
The pupils were pips
that had to be pulled
with tweezers
They hummed like silence
in a bowl

A bubble broke the surface
of the water
I covered my mouth with my hand
Pardon you
and giggled
I'll leave you to it

I danced with the fireguard
during the wait
but he became overexcitable
and had to be sent to the cupboard
under the stairs
to calm down

I smoked a cigarette
to cover the screaming
The challenge had made my hands shake
and the smoke was blue lace
in the air

Rothko

I am caught within
a wire mesh cloud
skin torn like wool
on a barbed wire fence
in a field that smells of cinder
and charred fenceposts
ashen lily petals crackle
in cellophane puddles

you stand out like a stare
the way you caught my eye
then blinked, heavy lidded
a swollen tongue
thick and wet
licked across the sky

the last thing i said to you

the last thing i said to you is don't leave me here

submission is a game
we played
until our knuckles bled
and our hands resembled
branches seared
by lightening

it continued to rain
long after the
breathing stopped

invisible, i pace the room
playing hide and seek
with the cracks in the wood
poking my fingers through
to touch the wind

silence is a necklace
the smell of you lingers
on my underwear
i strip down
until all thats left is shame
in puddles on the floor
and traces of a song
smeared across the walls

Vaszary János - Nude in Studio

walking just to walk

the ghost town
and lie beneath the sky
sprawled face down
on tarmac

naked
I wait for frost
to lick me
to glass

you are the juggernaut
that blindly swerves
to smash my ice
shell in the road

guiltily you repaint me
warm, wet yolk
on your studio floor

always on your terms

The Budapest Files....take egy!

QUOTES:

'The world is in my head. My body is in the world'. Paul Auster, 1967.

'What a fearful thing it is to love what death can touch.' Unknown.