The window is open
and you dark devils,
you long fingered night terrors,
make your way across the floor
as the grey outline of the curtain
billows effortlessly.
Your teeth are sharp and ready
to tease out my faults.
Your tongues are split and muscular
weaving in and out,
they whisper secret shames
into the black recesses of the night.
So heavy is the room
with my darkness now
that I can feel it
on my fingertips
and on each eye
forcing the lid down soundly.
My heart beats gently,
as if not to distract,
as if it were in cahoots
but then, as if suspecting
that I am considering this conjecture,
begins a sudden haste
and rushes red
inside my chest
a loathsome taste.
Slowly it seeps out of me,
as if my skin were to weep
of its own accord.
Each bead is cold and brackish
and reeks of a distinct but
unexplainable fear.
And as the pitch piles high
around my uneasy bed
like walls of brittle
death-black fear and dread
I lie back and await
nights end or
mine own at last.
Categorized in Uncategorized
You in your
cheap as chips,
mirror-tinted sunglasses:
I am continually catching
glances of myself
in unassuming poses;
moments of delightful torment.
When I try them on
I am distracted by
the slight reflections
of my own eyes
in my peripheral vision:
so wet and precise
and swept over by
the blue sky and my
black, black eyelashes
with that quite quiver
predictably,
inevitably,
pulling back
to your unflinching gaze.
Categorized in beauty, curiosity, poem and poetry
Your love
is like sitting here
on a gray, vaguely wet morning
in early june
waiting for the train home
after the night that was:
disappointing.
Categorized in experience, frustration, life., poem and poetry
If I ask nothing else of you,
only be there,
when the nighttime terrors
come a-knocking,
to hold my head in your hands,
to run fingers through my hair,
and tell me everything
will be alright.
Categorized in Uncategorized
Another gem from ‘herself’ over at Good at Getting Better
Ordinary
From a window above,
on an ordinary day,
where the ordinary people go
to make memories,
a voice floats over the courtyard
into the restaurant where you sit
eating anything and everything organic-
“la-di-la-di-day….”
a girl sings love, love with a ukulele,
Cupid’s arrows, our plastic forks,
souvenirs we carry home-
“la-di-la-di-day…”
three guys scramble, hacky sac,
two men play chess on the corner,
the girl sings love, love done me wrong-
“la-di-la-di-day…”
little doggie naps at feet,
his owner on a bench,
cigarette in lip, straw hat on head-
“la-di-la-di-day…”
traffic slows,
the old men chuckle at their game,
or the girl, or at love…
from the street below,
on an ordinary day,
belly full, you cross the courtyard-
the tune of the ukulele girl in your step,
and on your shoulder
a backpack,
filled with your own
stolen handful of plastic forks.
©2009 Krkbaker
Categorized in Favoured Poem, poem and poetry
Walking home from the train station
on one of those long summer evenings.
Someone had written in large letters
on the wall outside the bowling alley
the word ‘BONDAGE’,
and I pondered the implications of this.
I had never been much good with aggression
or knots.
Categorized in curiosity, enviroment, humour, life., people, poem and poetry
Your dress was covered in polka-dots,
the straps hanging loosely from your shoulders,
as I stood in the doorway with the light
from outside splintered across
my solemn face.
Your eyes were deep encased with
black rings from the make up you had
worn. You hadn’t expected the tears,
although we both might have known.
I didn’t know what to say
as I watched you
draped on the bed,
the epitome of sorrow.
And instead of holding you hair back
and kissing your forehead, as I
should; instead of holding your shoulders
and asking what went wrong,
I walked off to the rest of this lonely house
and left your tears with you
and my fears with me.
Categorized in alienation., conflict, darkness, dissatisfaction, guilt, loneliness, marriage, mistakes, poem, poetry and seperation.
Sitting in my car
outside your house.
It was raining heavily. I was
waiting for you to finish
brushing your teeth.
I had been reading from
the book of words
but they were beginning to
meld and move
so instead I sat
in silence and listened
to the sound of the rain
on the roof.
And as I sat there,
watching the rocks outside
getting wetter
and wetter,
I knew that someday
you would disappoint me.
Was I wrong?
Categorized in Uncategorized
Sitting in my car
outside your house.
It was raining heavily. I was
waiting for you to finish
brushing your teeth.
I had been reading from
the book of words
but they were beginning to
meld and move
so instead I sat
in silence and listened
to the sound of the rain
on the roof.
And as I sat there,
watching the rocks outside
getting wetter
and wetter,
I knew that someday
you would disappoint me
and be done.
But I didn’t care.
Categorized in Uncategorized
Sitting in my car
outside your house.
It was raining heavily. I was
waiting for you to finish
brushing your teeth.
I had been reading from
the book of words
but they were beginning to
meld and move
so instead I sat
in silence and listened
to the sound of the rain
on the roof.
And as I sat there,
watching the rocks outside
getting wetter
and wetter,
I knew that someday
you would disappoint me.
Categorized in poem and poetry
