Thursday, March 11, 2010


Thirty makes you think
Thirty makes you wise
30 allows fooling yourself knowingly

Confusing love with habit
Cohabiting without love

Thirty turns you moody
Thirty gives you whims
30 gifts you blues: to paint your toenails

In ever-changing hues
Ever-changing ruse

Thirty brands you tired
Thirty says you’re spent
30 gets you sick: throw up on mush

Only to live again
Only to love again

Remains of the day 2

There was music, there was light
Eyes twinkling, smiles bright
A champagne flute lay broken on the floor

Buy cheese, buy squash
The carpet needs a wash
More lists more chores more life

Remains of the day

The gusset plates of lust
Are all rusted, spent
But, unlike love, still real

Now I sleep not too well
With funny scary dreams
Disquieting images of
Bonfires in catacombs

Lady T

She shadows me everywhere

Waiting and watching

Shrewdly whispers in moments

Of weariness: hoping to reap

Her harvest

I laid in her arms once

We were almost one


Thus I jilted Lady T

But she be patient

The end is soon and she

Would surely bed me in