The little things (Apology to Gaia)

How sweet it is to feel again
My blade malicious sliding into flesh
To see the flicker in your eyes dismay
And life’s fresh humour fade from rose to blue
Each time my careful weapon takes your life
None see you die, nor, best of all, do you
No epitaph or granite marks your grave
No loving flame, with sorrow, sparks your Pyre
I smile, obscene with gloating, hidden now
As bleeding in your cherished dreams you tire
Another hopeful wave dashed on the crag
Once mighty breaker ebbing now in rills
You die so many times and yet are hale
And, oh, so eager, to be slaughtered still
Each glistening wound throb with remembered pain
Desire’s blood ever flowing, never pooled
To kill and not be caught is my delight
A death less crude than mere oblivion
As man I sin and watch you fade and fade
Your piecemeal massacre is my charade.

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Travellers

"We are lovers" they said
But when all said and done, isn't everyone?
In everything we see
A shape comes to us that we can admire
Between A and B
A quarter-century of worlds
Glitter amongst the alphabet and wait to be found
Each dared to show another
all they saw amid the scattered words

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Nightly Invasion

Ghost giggles on silent feet
A thought interrupted
Now competes
with glimpse of mother’s eyes
Past, present and future
Sapphire re-inherited from clay.

Coal-tint mop given way to
mobile summer corn
Sudden flirting, stillness, to fleeting, stifled, yawn
Hidden and expectantly explicit
pseudo-silence
hoping for attention.

Settled anew into yielding lap
Precursed to luxury, coddling
the eye’s
epicanthic denouement
‘til sack-carried
upward to dampen the folds with
soon-sticky sleep.

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Use of Words

I know the longest one
Floccinaucinihilipilification
I've never used it, not in speech
In conversation, nor to teach
No use to poets, you can see by the above
It doesn't metre not for money or for love
In essence, I'm not sure that folk would know
The meaning of the ebb and flow
Of syllables meant to confuse
And so this word I'll never use

Looks like I've gone and done it now
I've hitched the wild horse to the plough
Who knows what' that will turn up next
What gnarley root lies hidden in a line of text
I know… I find it easy to define
The words I use, when they are mine
For others it might not be clear
An abstract word they're forced to hear
Ah well! It's done, although I never meant
A wasted word but nonetheless, well spent

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Collaborators

Invaded land... Fed by flesh
Without the collaborators
All the sons of the land will perish
The invasion would be complete
Collaborators consume the invaders
and breed a new people
The land lives on

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Dance

'Not stooping
dancing
'Not squirming at the end of a bright, barbed gaff
I'm dancing

'Not a flesh musician, in the dark hours
Stroking away at a tired instrument
'Not scrawping the wounds of a thousand flea-feasts
I'm dancing

'Not stopping the dance
Just because you think I look awkward
Just because you can't find the rhythm
I'm dancing

© 2005 Kahdoosch

A Trip To McDonalds

Go... Romantic creature
Could I perhaps clutch and drink your hot liquid
or may I taste the warm creamy blaze between your buns?
If love is passion
Go... Consume it

One's desire is delicious
Open polymer petals and inspire some familiar liquid rhythms
Then to finally devour is unrivalled, sweet agony
Yet to never taste again
would be pure-felt fever

© 2005 Kahdoosch

The Playground

I watched a colony of ants
Their nest shattered
Eggs scattered
By what, to them, must have been
a natural catastrophe

The first priority was the next generation
How they slaved
Eggs saved
The recovery seemed chaotic
yet so organised

Paths crossed, re-crossed, intertwined
The eggs unspilled
Nest rebuilt
Routines returned to normal, waiting
for the next pointed stick

It had begun to rain
The stick dropped
Hoods flopped
over happy round faces, as mothers
rushed forward unfolding umbrellas

© 2005 Kahdoosch

Claudia

On Satin paws, the spectre in my room
A fragment of wilderness... Stalks the gloom
Creeps on carpet, hunts the shadow prey
Becomes a wooly purr... Once comes the day

© 2005 Kahdoosch