Prepare Yourself

Jenny tells ya,

A tale of two tails.

One leaves a trail,

The other follows his tail.

Erratic Behaviour

Crosshatch

Strange.

Bisecting shadows projected,

Crisscrossing without physically touching,

Mystique.

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Yellow Submarine

He scrubs,

I watch.

He scrubs,

I watch.

He scrubs,

I watch,

He scrubs,

I tug.

A shimmy here,

Wally there.

A nip, yelp and a little jolt,

A lug, nut and bolt.

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Curb Stomp

Over the sea,

Arriving in a foreign land.

Ushered at first,

Shoved headfirst.

Cages and claws,

Chickens and crows.

Bound by law,

Eaten raw.

Isolation,

Barred from contact.

Driven to the bone,

Mercy; gone.

The rising dawn,

A crackdown.

A meltdown,

A breakdown.

Bitten bites biter,

Slashing furiously.

Gnashing teeth,

Cross-eyed foal.

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Moaning Star

Rushing towards me,

A groaning mass.

Moaning wretched souls.

Writhing in death throes.

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Flail

With a crook and flail,

I command thee.

Nine lashes across,

Then three times more.

Chomping down on the wiggling mealworm,

The bass gulps it.

Hooks it by the side,

Flailing in game over.

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Pokey

Distress calls before the night,

Claws and pincers wave to the light.

Dogs howl and kittens jowl,

This has been going on for awhile.

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Yarn

Strings entwined by our moods,

Swinging from pin to pin,

Weaving and interloping,

Seamless tapestries.

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Sewn

You clock in,

I clock out.

Key enters the lock,

Sleep entered by walk.

The eye of the bee,

Wandering across the path,

Oblivious to the surroundings,

Looking for one thing.

One little kiss,

Showers on a summer's day,

Don't let her run,

April's fool today.

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Split Ends

A moleskin draped across the table,

Coarse fur shaped like silver bristles.

The tanner arrives for inspection,

Milady'! Such tis fine complexion.

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Black Hole Sun

Angry,

Sad.

Seething with anger,

Drowning in sorrow.

Angry,

Sad.

Bubbling to the brim,

Losing oneself in the abyss.

Angry,

Sad.

There's everything to do,

But nothing can be done.

Angry,

Sad.

Taiko drums beating,

A wail of the cello.

Rabbits screaming,

Donkeys baying.

Children shrieking,

Palestinians dying.

Chop, chop, chop;

Crash, crash, crash;

Bang, bang, bang;

Until there is no more.

Only silence.

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Rarebit

A rock.

Immobile,

Solid,

Matter.

Moss.

Fungi,

Moist,

Organism.

Reincarnation.

Hosting a stranger,

Souls to partake,

Correlation.

Resurrection.

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Laundry Day

There are days where you wake up with the sun boring into your eyes, dust flickering around you, and the musty smell of unwashed laundry.
Groggily, you'd clamber up from your bed, put on those pink bunny slippers mum got you last Christmas, and head outside.
It's a good day.
A sunny one.

You'd yawn a few times too many.

Lumbering back into your room, you'd collect the discarded pieces of clothing, letting your floor surface revel in fresh air once more.

Carrying all your dirty clothes in a heap between your arms, you hug it close to your chest and dive your face deep into it, breathing in, breathing deep.
Reminisce last week's odours and flavours.
Savour the moment.

Opening a new box of washing detergent, you'd chirp happily; knowing you bought the right variant this time around.
No more overflowing foamy soap bubbles. No more leaky pipes. No more rotting floorboards.
Ahh the satisfaction.

The pleasurable sensation of stuffing the washing machine like a Thanksgiving turkey, and the twinge of sadness in seeing all the past memories ingrained by sweat and the occasional blood and tears about to be tumbled and soaped into nonexistence.

Closing the door, you hit 'START'.

It begins.

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Ned

Oh Ned,

My pretty boy.

All grown up,

A family man.

* * *

Papa was a swine-dler,

Putting bread on the table.

On the other side of the law,

He was done for.

Like father like son,

Mammal-related downfall.

All them migrants from foreign lands,

He was well; Ah, Fook-ed.

Great forces and influencing Powers,

Blood and wine,

Like allies and foes,

Uncle Jack's the rat.

Shoes and trousers go on the same,

Sneaky fingers finding their mark,

Eyeballing and black balling,

Inducing shame in a young man.

* * *

John,

Edward,

Ned.

Villain,

Hero,

Icon.

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Always a Pleasure

Pickles strode through the revolving glass doors.

Smack bang!

In his face,

Soaking into him through his open pores.

His insides wailed at the sudden intrusion.

The exquisite flavours,

Marinading them with smoky hues,

Painting them with its tendrilled tongue.

He pulls up to a counter.

In his mind,

There are flying wombats and rowing otters,

He is thinking of what to order.

A voluptuous lady approaches him.

Her smell perforates the thin fabric of his shell,

Seeping into his essence,

Swaying his body and mind.

She holds out her hand,

A padded clipboard roughly shoved at him.

With her pen,

She points and tap at the alluring pictures.

Her impatience broke his thought train.

Her slurred accent and browned skin beckoned to him.

Drawing his hands faster than his eyes,

They slipped into his pants.

Fumbling with the seams,

They were caught.

Paper bills rustling under his trembling fingers,

As he folded up the 50s and have her the 10s.

Their tips touched.

A sizzle of electricity raced and arced.

Over the points of contact it sped,

Along the veins it traced.

For what seemed like an eternity,

Ended so soon.

The thin edges of her lips,

They curled too.

Through the spinning glass,

A few more spins,

A twirl or two,

A show of hands.

Tomorrow,

Everyday,

Once,

Back again.

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Bloodline

"One too many, once no more"

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Peekaboo

Irony.

Is like licking a lollipop.

Unwrapping it.

Then keeping it.

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Snow Bells

Tinnitus ringing,

Whilst the carolers singing,

Window panes a'whinging,

She wakes up screaming.

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Veiny

Her delicate petals,

Soft and silken.

Her lips puckering,

A surreal sight.

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Freezer Burn

Fly high,

Run fast.

The river approaches.

Here we shall part aways.

At the next bend we join,

It will be soon now.

Rest assured my king.

Battle has yet begun.

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