Monthly Archives: February 2010

24

Standard

Hours. This place
stays open
for twenty-four hours.

I’m sitting in a café,
with an apple crumble
with a sea of custard.
The sea becomes, well,
a sea.
And the crumble,
you might ask?
A ship? Don’t
be foolish.
Don’t play with your food
mother said.

People. In this place.
At this moment
twenty-four people.

The ocean dried up
patterns in the custard.
I stand up,
go out.

Steps. From here to the station
I count twenty-four steps.
Across the road, down
the stairs.

Minutes. The pause outside
has lasted twenty-four minutes.

And suddenly, I realise:
twenty-four is just
a confused
forty-two.

Published in The Scribe: Summer 2010 ‘the Other’

Yet to title

Standard

(A S. Lupus)


Scribbled on my tissue
…paper? skin.
Vortex of words, strings
of letters, swirling, entwining
mixing – creating.
Poiesis. Poetry.
And Silence.
The sound of her wings
written on the body,
the body of my work.

I find a message
not penned nor inked
but bled. Red drops
form the letters.
I am the message,
language streams through my veins.
The logos ignites
our blazing fire.
Above us,
the silence of the stars.
But we,
we are the words.

Masquerade

Standard

I am the mirror
the multi-faceted glass
that reflects, but does not
think. I show.
I am the show.
Welcome all, mesdames et messieurs,
Damen und Herren, signore e signori,
ladies and gentlemen
to your masquerade.

With every mask
a new persona. Who am I?

A Little Dove, simple, pure
beauty. Simply I love him
his iris of diamonds
colours of his heart.
A Little Dove, white and
in love.

A Sad Clown, writing,
pining in the light of the
Moon, au claire de la
Lune. For her, my Dove,
my Love, who loves me not.

Amor vincit omnia, I say.
I am a Doctor, from Latin
or Greek (like the yoghurt)
to duck to quack look!
Vide! My bill a beak
a beacon

of bacon?
Meat, meat! The food
of the rich, of merchants.
I am rich, I wear the
Pantaloons.

Here we go again!
Tricks and pranks, mischievous
Clown, a Punch-in-the-box.
I am the way to do it!

Beneath the mask? A facade.
I am the horseman, rider
from Hell, the king of the
Herla, little Hercules.
King or Fool?
King of Fools!

For if you look well
beneath the face, I am
You.

Welcome all, ladies and gentlemen,
to your masquerade.

Published on The Literateur: July 2010