Bandit Cat (draft)

Don't get distracted by our nervous twitching;
Uneasy waiting,
Shameless judging
Of those who seemed to never care.
We still momentarily pause by the door
As we're passing,
Tap on the glass
And tease the lock for you.
Ventricles melt under pressure
As we realise we're thankful they never cared.
If you were anyone else's you'd have been locked away
Like a one-of-a-kind, treasured toy
With which no one else could play.
A well-oiled wind-up experiment
Of solid gold
Void of inevitable depression
And soul-sucking fate.
You were never quite of this world.
Their lack of caring
Resulted in their sharing you with us.

I hope they've seem what you're worth
As we poise here waiting
Nervously shaking.
I hope they've paid their dues
To fix breakable you
When your unbreakable joy
Wasn't enough to stop you getting hurt.
If, by any chance of fleeting luck,
We'd have been with you when the Fiesta struck
I'd have mended all your broken pieces.
Instead, your breed scribbled on a scrap
And found, by chance.
A shell-shocking reality on the eve of Christmas.
And I hope your family know
If they were stuck,
Cornered or hard-up
I'd have raised the funding
To get you back on your black, bouncing feet -
Standing and running.

But if you never come to us again,
Or we never see you through the layers of life,
We hope you sleep peacefully.
We will still tap the glass and wait for you
And see if you wait for us when the sky lights up.
You'll always be the little wanderer
Who showed us eternal love.
That big, soul-filled hearts
Can be found in the smallest bodies.
You gave us many a-treasured memory
To cherish and smile upon
As the gentle tears of loss
roll down our aching, burning cheeks.

When our heavy hearts fall
If you cannot respond to our calls
From beyond the grave
It will be in that moment we realise
We were blessed to ever know you at all.

The Icing on the Lake

Mr. Arnold Duck was a mallard.

He was a gentle soul, who liked to keep himself to himself.

But one day, when he was swimming in the pond,

he was approached rather rudely by Travis the gazelle.

‘Mr. Duck, you fool! What are you doing?’

yelled Travis at the top of his lungs.

‘We’ve been waiting for you all day!’

(Mr. Duck suspected his emphasis was a little overdone.)

‘Where have you been waiting for me? And why?’

asked Mr. Duck, politely - as he should.

‘We sent you a reminder about this!’ Travis said.

‘Over there, in the woods.’

‘I see,’ replied Mr. Duck, 

still thinking Travis rather brash.

‘And what is this all in aid of?

To what do I owe this... chat?’

‘Mr. Duck!’ Travis said.

He edged closer and began to shake.

‘You shouldn’t be in the water!

You’re entirely made out of cake!’

Black Swan. January 2011

Black Swan.
‘The only person standing in your way is you.’ - Thomas Leroy - Black Swan, 2010.

These bones are aching now. Soul is lifeless - falls in bow,

weighing upon unsteady crowds who applaud the role.

I’m perching staring at myself. I’ve never needed this much help

to summon daemons who say they dwell, bubbling in my soul.

Perfection cracks my spine. As every knot unwinds

it ties into my mind and plays upon my chance.

Question far too long. Am I right, am I wrong?

Where inside me is this swan, does she come through dance?

Praying breaths in spiraling heat, I turn onto more able feet

that have the confidence - they can leap! The shadow takes my heels.

Inside ghosts in their entire take me where I aspire -

set my heart of ice on fire. Through my spine, they peel.

Perfection feathers through with every fluent move.

Out from the mirror comes you:

the swan upon the world.

You’re inside me now. Shimmering blindly down

over my internal frown which rotates with twirls.

Here it comes: the end. The demise of tragic friends

who only learnt to blend in a war of black and white.

Perfection came at last. Internal ensemble cast.

Here I fall from harm into the heeling light.

An Apple a Day (April, 2011)

An Apple a Day

‘Silence will not heal your scars, but give them tiny chariots to ride upon.’ - Ed Wren, Playwright - The Ordinaries in... an Awkward Silence - unpublished.

Happiness and heart-felt smiles

hauntless nights and handfuls of air.

Hearts and organs in glass bodies -

she’s always dreamed of getting there.

Controlled diets slowly shaping,

slowly moulding hour-glass curves.

Gentle routines and mindless wanders

start to chisel away from her.

Hours and days

Days and weeks

‘The success is showing,’ she thinks,

‘just a few more tweaks.’

Stricter chewing, quicker carving

swifter loosing her slimming size.

Brisk routines and higher thought process

in between more labored strides.

Smiles and radiance

social acceptance and inner-peace.

Her skin is lighter, stomach’s shrinking -

eating through her gritted teeth.

Harsher counting, faster moving

calories multiplying in her head.

A mental challenge, a taunting voice:

‘how much of this corpse can you shed?’

Concave belly and washboard ribs

Sunken eyes and patchy skin

Translucent casing generously coating

oversized veins and boney limbs.

Drying strands of stringy wire

split themselves and fall away.

The woman inside - unable to develop -

loses herself. Shrinks. Decays. 

Jutting hips and wilting muscles

fading soul and tortured mind.

Paving stones ache for her bouncing steps.

Mirrors miss her. Have they gone blind?

But on cold tiles, demonic scales

sneer at her efforts and laugh her weight.

Her protruding veins throb with anger -

there must be something else she can lose... wait.

Dismantled razor and unflattering moonlight,

violent uncertainty and uncensored fate.

She hovers the edge over needless pounds

and with a light breath, she grates.

Her life bursts and spills to her feet,

runs down her skeleton, fleeing.

She looks into her hollow, black eyes -

laughs uncontrollably and what she’s seeing.

Peaceful resistance and zen in her pulse,

achieved wishes and temporary dreams.

Her head floats as she struggles to stand,

she feels lighter in her mind at least.

She falls to the floor, feathering down,

the emptiness inside growls angrily.

She feels hollow and weak but still, she wonders,

‘what could that growling be?’

Shivering blood and drowning dreams

bubbling rage and frightening voices.

‘The flood dripping down your icicle skin

is not enough.’ She gives in to the forces.

Night after night she drains the rivers -

surges of warmth that keep her alive.

The battle of ice against crimson is fierce,

she wants to lose, God knows she tries.

Withering skin and hollowing bones

indestructible will and impressionable soul.

She’s ready to plead before her maker

but the rotting emptiness remains a whole.

‘You can never desert me,’ growls the voice,

snarling, indignant, from somewhere within.

The life of the anger moves in her chest

weighing her down with her sin.

A soul in a soul, a life in a life.

Red-eyed intruders and feeble hosts.

She feels unknown emotions writhe in her body,

sharing it with anorexic ghosts.

Knuckles swell, vertebrates tense,

jaw dislocates - with venom it swells.

She hides behind the cold black eyes

defenseless in her withering shell.

Terror engulfs her mind as she thinks

she can’t free herself from this.

She pleads with her saviour, the enemy clenches

and with a furious breath, a hiss.

Curses and prayers she whispers

but it can hear her words within.

It slithers into her thought process

and poisons her pleas. It stings.

Sinking tears down skeletal skin,

dying fights and wills growing stale.

the Within swells, feeds on her fear,

she’s heavy with fiends - she’s frail.

Her body slithers over the cold tiled floor,

fingers slinking, body not her own.

Elasticated joints pleat themselves

as contortion folds her, snaps her bones.

Floating ribs and double-bent elbows

escaping shrieks and rolled-back eyes.

It ages and bruises her rose-like skin

twisting her, fracturing her insides.

It splinters and cracks everything it can

dragging her toward her grave.

It did not flinch when she muttered

her last words, ‘Lord, please save-’

---

Hollowness and heart-felt screams

haunting nights and claspfuls of hair.

Hearts and organs in glass bodies -

she always dreamed of getting there.