Monday, 13 January 2014

Pretty Medusa

The snakes that I let crawl up my stomach
They live on my head now.
Only thing is, often they throw these hissy fits, It's
Something I shouldn't have allowed.

The neon green baby wants to play in the rain
But Orange-with-brown-spots here
Thinks he has the pneumonia. Blue ribbon fancied
Blue-eyed boy, but,(said another), he's stony 'n austere.

I just can't seem to focus, there's already an awful
Lot to do, a diligent young gal like me.
It's a shame these slimy darlings have their stupid
Little problems, they just wont let me be.

Everywhere we go,even nosy passer-by s
Make sure they don't stare. 
But they do call us an 'eye-sore' (I really am not)
And hire people to chop off my hair.

They're being rather mean, but that's okay, I've got
Too many friends anyway, they'll only ever have a few.
We grin knowingly, they just don't know it yet
They've got snakes whispering from a midst their hair too.

Saturday, 4 January 2014

Songs of sad folks (everything is broken)

Songs of sad folks (everything is broken)

She writes with a broken nib
Every curvaceous word breaks twice before it ends.
While the broken legs squirm
Under the weight of the broken glass tabletop which pretends

Otherwise, just like the broken door 
That she locks every night, ceremoniously, hiding the key 
Inside the hideous broken vase with 
Its long-wilted flowers, that heirloom of a broken family.

He drives a swanky new car
With a broken stereo set, and every lyric breaks twice
Before overcoming the erratic waves
And gliding past the streets broken from jagged malice

That somersaults its way down
His narrow driveway littered with broken whisky bottles
From the last night's new year's party
And fits snugly into the symmetric cracks on his broken walls.

One day at daybreak, they will meet
Under the broken billboard, walking gingerly and vexed
Around the fringes of the broken earth,
Unromantic and sullen, hoping, hoping to be fixed.