Saturday, 17 December 2011


Smile, offer a word of friendliness
I will ease toward you like whiskey to water
Lie, betray me Judas
I will defend you as if you are family
I will forgive, if only you will apologise
Or touch my arm gently to say you're sorry
I will also demand an equal
Measure of your loyalty

This play goes on, act after act
The seven emotions flitting over our faces
Tears, forgiveness, happy. Repeat. 

Like a fingernail that meticulously
Chips down a piece of chalk
I will wait patiently 
Until you grind me down to the grain
Until you test my loyalty
So vehemently
That it stretches and breaks 
Like a rubber band. Snap. 

No going back from there, my friend
You jumped upon my trampoline of trust
I am flexible. 
I have a breaking point. 
Once shattered, my headstrong heart
Refuses to be mended by
Your injurious fingers
Your callouses have ground me 
Into an unfixable mess
Your once warm eyes now
Radiate scathing heat

Sink away into the abysses of my mind
I will shadow you into the past
Look for new ones to lay my trust upon
Search for new hands that will
Tear me into tinier pieces
And still tinier, the next time over

When will it end? 
When I have resigned to be soulless
Until then, I am gullible
To your sugarcoated words

--For every friend I ever lost.

Friday, 2 December 2011

Abstract Mind

Inclined towards the artistic
Fascinated by things mystic
Restless fingers, creating
Eager eyes, ever searching

For things unseen; they catch her eye
As a universe of normality passes by:

Delicate white lace in the breaking tide
A lost feeling in memory revived;
The curve of a hip in sand dunes
Silver fairy dust in craters of the moon;
The sweat of labour in melting ice
Twinkling diamonds in the eyes of surprise;
The stench of murder in a matador's red
Twisted lies in golden truth said;
The depth of the past in a bottle of ink
Desperate clasping hands in chain links.

Her senses, heady with fantasy
Experiences, severed from reality
Reason blind, straying from fact
Her mind, surreal, abstract.

P.S. This was one of the few poems I ever read out in public, at age fifteen, when I had far fewer inhibitions.