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Thursday 2 January 2014

Agoraphobia

 There are birds
So many and they whisper
Did you hear the call of the wren
The birds they hear me 
They see me
They are listening to me 
The albatross wings like a harrier jet beating waiting
The birds the tall and meek
They all see me 
They see my weakness
I am naked to their cold dark pupils
The birds will never strike
They will speak to one another in the shadows always watching me
The birds
The great and the insignificant 
Peacocks with bright feathers
Herons with bold skewer beaks
Galahs, cockatoos and lorikeets shrieking laughter
The birds are squealing
The birds are taunting me
The birds are silent 
The birds don't like me
The birds are watching 
The birds are waiting 
The birds are wanting
The birds are waiting for me to die.

B.E.A.C.H

Sun kissed
Flaring sugar strawberry and cream 
Burns and blisters
Salt dry
Tight curved echoes like peaches 
Blanching caramel in the sun
The smoulder of waves 
Wrapping and ensnaring with a slaughter of froth 
Undulating dunes pass sweet whispers over grass
As the apricot sky saunters into night 
Breakers giving in, moaning into the dark black maw 
Leaving only the final imprints of clawing violent gritty love