the last sin
  pale ashen sky
a bleary eye
clouds of recurring screams...
i am a zoo
  an octopus leviathan
tentacles into an ocean
of unformed emotions...
syphilis and love  
  syphilitic pall
stifles the clear blue
i contort...
shell and pearl
  amidst highs and lows
in life's ocean flows
a shell peony-mouthed...
i am an unmarried mother
  fed on stings
of barbed milk morality
my child-plankton...
the lovers
  cell upon cell
bridge of their union
hung on the pillars...
  ogre of age
and time cavil
at a warm picture...
the young today
  innocence thaws
at the altar
of ambition...


can you catch the butterfly
when she is in full swing
serenading in the mystical light
fluttering her long lashes
traversing the blue bay
with a dewy innocence
and a sparkle in her eyes
winking with bitter-sweet suspicion
she knows she is a creature
of crimson indigo flight
and light eyed fancy
with tantalising breathlessness
and a hungered ache that consumes
yet elevates
the tenderness of touch
the joy of myriad hues
colour in motion
holding her in your palm
of trust that is misplaced
she is eternal she is ephemeral
she is permanent she is transient
she is an idea she is real
she is flapping her wings
crying translucent dew drops
for our freedom

volcanic emotions explode
an inner song
waiting to burst
as she transcends earthly designs
upon fate we depend
are these the tears of a butterfly
or molten lava cascading down her cheeks
as she careens the orange skies above
i want to capture her and plant her safely
as a tattoo upon my left breast

the soft touch of wind in which she shimmers
or would you prefer it on the right buttock
perhaps her touch will redeem me
free me
absolve me
let me loose
the soul that welds a statue
that nurtures a vacuum
fuelling in passion
you thought
you had lost
is she a butterfly
or a flirtatious diva
hurting none but all
she became your
to be
to smell
to feel
the fresh breath
of coffee each day
the trickle of sweat
tracing her sex every morn
curling away but save tonight
seductive in her movement
as you lay down naked
gazing at her supreme body
serene in her repose
she bent playing with her self
dancing to your desire
feel her
but don't touch
hear her
caress her
but don't respond
embrace the idea of her
twisting beneath her presence
for she doesn't really exist
or does she
i see her everyday
and make love to her
every night

a figment of dreams that expostulate
what should be but can't be
the schizophrenia of desire
the schism of thought
mind games
one on one
body fluids that exchange
ah but the butterfly may sting!
as you close your eyes
spent drifting unto the dark havens
and there she is...
sleep deprived
a neon lit apparition fluttering her wings
beckoning you to come
frolic with her
sing with her
fly with her
defy each thrust with her
but don't you fly too close
for you may burn

last night she drifted into my room
as i lay tossing in my bed
kissed my lips
soothing my frayed nerves
and rocked me gently to sleep
when i woke up this morning
she had left a handwritten note
crumbled upon my bed
in italics it curved: ‘let's play’

can you catch the butterfly
when she is in full swing

29 November 2003