All entries for Monday 14 June 2010

June 14, 2010

Babylon

              Feed me lies from Babylon[i];

              eradicate conflicting policies

              with misquotations. I can

              shave my arsehole ’ til the

              saviour comes[ii], but should

              I love, then I am doomed

              to die. Well, I’ll meet you

              in the brimstone and clink

              my melting goblet on your

              skull. No-one but the Lord

              can grant forgiveness, yet

              you proclaim authority to

              condemn everyone. But I

              despise Conservatives.



[i] The Catholic Church is referred to as the whore of Babylon throughout the Bible.

[ii] Alludes to the way in which the Mosaic Laws considers shaving oneself to be an equal abomination to homosexuality.


Tumbung

              Naked feet scuff sunburnt track,

             headed for Tujereng. Market day

              brawl for breakfast and Vimto;

              throats creak in the merciless

              heat.

              “Hibidjay!” the Gambian cackles

              and bursts into smiles. Kids

             cling to my scrawny white legs

                  and prance

                      to birdsong

                              and dance

                                  to English;

                                  the rhythm and beat of mellifluous language.

                                  Come, sway

                              Your arms

                      and shake

                  your legs

               to Wolof, and sing!

              Tabletops spring from tormented land

              while Tumbung grows pawpaw and jack.

              Snapper fish gasp from bowls in the sun;

              Tanjean fishers left them to

              drown.

              “Niaata la?” A local man roars

              and holds up three fingers. I

              hand him dalasi and skip

              back to Tumbung

                  to eat

                      papaya

                              and sing

                                  with friends,

                                 who garment themselves in Gambian dress.

                                  Come, swing

                              those feet

                      and rattle

                  those joints

              with Etu, and munch!


The Sauna

              I know that vodka won’t excuse

              the things we did,

             but I will never change the past,

              although I’ve tried

              to wipe it all away.

              I think I said I’d go with you

              (you said I did),

              but something makes me think, that night,

            you spoke for me

              as I lay dead

              And let the mob

              of pensioners

              caress me everywhere.

              A pill is all it takes, I guess,

              and I should learn

             to choose my friends more carefully,

              but I thought you

              would care for me

              that night,

              when I lay dead.


Coming Out

              A secret cuts your world from mine

              But I have lied

                      The same as you

              And know the things you’re going through;

              The words will never sound the way

              You want them to,

                      I lived like you,

              When I was too naive to live at all.

              If you could learn to speak the truth,

              They wouldn’t care -

                      Then me and you

              Could do things we want to do.

              But you will never let them see

              The face you hide,

                      Though if you do,

              I’ll kiss your broken body when you fall.


Recycling

              Nature’s dead – the cityscape

              Recycled it to doors and brick.

                  A cherub smiles from on the wall;

                  Inside its mouth, fossils fade.

              A pane of glass, thick with steam,

              Conceals thinly-painted lips.

                  My old love smiles then fades

                  Away, never to be seen again.

              Beauty died when man destroyed the

              Swallow’s nest.

                             London glimmers proudly.


Chemtrails

Silver

birds spew

chemicals as

balding men parade

the streets of London.

Liquid breaks into a billion

particles and shackles newborns

to the grave. Warlords laugh behind

their desks, gauging tests with eager smiles.

“Welcome to England,” they proclaim. “Iraq is heaven”.


Rome

               I never asked for you to interfere;

               you forced yourself inside,

               and raped my mind

               with tender smiles.

               Now, my eyes are broken.

               Defined by diagnosis,

               I live how you decide -

               Naked in the

               Coliseum, for your

               God-like eye to analyse.

               Catapult me back two thousand

               years - let me feel

               the wrath of Rome.

               I will fight and fall,

              another broken gladiator.


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