Heartbreak

Hazel leaves curl as they fall
and pile up against the sidewalk.
Abandoned walnut shells too
lie at the bottom of my feet.
I bounce to flatten them all
lest they be caught in the wind.
What a merrily crackling sound!

One day after a heavy shower
I was stepping on the walnut shells
for I loved so dearly
the merrily crackling sound.
And with the rain, all the snails of the hood
had sprung up above ground.

Crack, crack! I stepped on another shell!
Instantly I knew, it wasn't a walnut now.
Crack, crack!
My heart broke and began to wail
for my foot had just murdered a snail.

Cancer Series

Cancer in the House

(I)

The wind blew its way through in a fervent rush
and stirred up the marred papers on the chair.
The frail curtains could hardly resist
and the hinges gave in a little creak.
Dirty forks jingled in fear.
Milk bottles fell
and poured out their remaining white.
Something rough was in the air.

Up until then, I thought time was fluid
and I would know nothing of lull.
Now I was breathing out of life
and time halted its flow.

I held my body stiff and my gaze lowered.
Then I flushed away water and blood.
My thighs were in red,
my eyes a glistening wet
as I stood still on the bathroom sill
and feigned reluctance to smell death.

Cancer in the Wild


(I)


Earth smells of dewy timber
and of freshly trimmed grass.
The pink gown drapes down the weeping cherry
on a slowly passing afternoon in May.

I healed my wounds under the weeping cherry,
wiped the dew off my face.
"Be not ungrateful to heavens" mum used to say.
Gray clouds are home to rain.
The cherry needs it, I need it too.

Hope is nested in tomorrow.
And tomorrow will be budding again.
The dew kisses the timber,
weeping cherry wears the gown.
The grass grows, tilting in the wind.
Rain comes with dawn.

by David LaChapelle

HOURS

How could I not feel you breathe,
or count the flutter of your eyelashes
when your heart beats a slower pace than mine
beneath my shivering hand?

The wistful depth in your eyes
is telling me your virgin story
and I am lying here by your side
dreaming my jaded dream
that you be there for good
to soothe my ferocious waters
and dodge the unyielding course,
the arrogant manners of Time.

*

Dreams belong to yesterday
and seldom come to the fore.
Now I'm here by myself
with the unabated waters of my heart.
Your smell, long clouding your loss,
is hovering around no more.

While you -
are not,
I’m waiting on this trodden out porch,
rolling hours under my feet
as the clock tower across the yard
casually strikes midnight
singing for the death of the waning day
and for the dawn of just another.

JOHN DOLL

My baby baby sugar cane

baby blue is deep in your eyes,

let me hide and seek in your eyes.

My cuddly boy, you're snug and all.

I'm not faint-hearted.

My tongue is not wagging.

You're my yummy yummy crush,

juicy little john doll.

My silky milky ice-cream,

let me whip your cream.

See no passion, no sex drive,

take this as a lullaby.

I'm not faint-hearted.

My tongue is not wagging.

THE PIN

The pin was resting near the faucet
ready to meet my scarf.
Suddenly it swirled down
and hit the bottom of the sink,
in less than a moment or so,
fell into the hole,
once and for all,
and vanished.

Don't you think you are safer.
The poor pin never knew its fate.
The tide turned,
pulverized its innocent plans
of clinging on a piece of silk
and ridiculously took it away.

YOUR ANGEL

I find nothing more delightful
than surrendering to the impulse
to claw your heart at one go,
scrape the damp wounds off
and root it out of your chest,
tear your meat into threads,
squelch it under my feet,
then let the ragged flesh
and filthy blood stream down the road
and easily fuse into garbage
while sneering with the same toxic smile
that once charmed you and enslaved
your heart
as you left it at the mercy of my hands,
these safe hands
of your mythic stellar angel.