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...

the battle begins…

if life’s going to be a ceaseless contest
between persistent vaporised ghosts
and sporadic sunshine
that creeps in unsuspectingly
and disappears equally unobtrusively
one might as well learn to take it
in one’s stride howsoever diminishing
one way to defeat darkness
is to infuse into its murky corners
the light of creativity
to craft is to fight back
poetry is more than
slow dancing geishas in verse
it’s a protest against fear
i think of Bukowski and his battles
with the bottle and how free verse
kept him afloat
i have to be strong
even if it means combating
my cohabiting demons
with the guillotine of words
day after relentless day

the battle has only just begun

(9 October 2004)