Warning: This Poem is Revolting

The reader’s face was blank
the words had not sunk in.
The poem had been read
but then he chucked it – in the bin!

He didn’t like that poem,
didn’t ascertain its meaning,
he was busy contemplating pies
and the cost of his dry-cleaning.

But this story is just beginning
for metaphor was pissed,
his very being was compromised,
he didn’t like being dissed.

Simile was outraged,
like a prisoner denied a smoke,
he didn’t like this reader
who was slow beyond the joke,

narrative was spewing
she was livid, through and through,
she told as much to subject and shape,
and they were fuming too.

Symbolism was gnashing teeth,
cross tattoo on her back.
Infuriated – an understatement –
she wouldn’t take no flack.

Outrageous cried the first stanza,
turning to the next,
this reader is beyond the pale
with no clue about the text?

K’noath, that’s how I feel,
my tone is smoky red,
I’m only short but misunderstood
is not the way I’m read.

By now allusion was going crazy,
cartoon smoke came out his ears,
bit like the lies from Abbott’s mouth
before he engages gears.

Rhythm and rhyme were plotting,
they were going with the flow,
let’s take revenge on this dim dude
he knows not how low he will go.

Attributes of the poem united,
in ranting and conniving.
The theme would be taking revenge
– there would be no surviving.

Gathering their weapons so swift –
knives, an axe and chainsaw
oh yes, they were ready for battle –
the reader nowhere to withdraw.

The readers face was blank
as you’d expect from someone dead,
he had failed to hear the music,
so they cut off his empty head.

(soundtrack to the poem)

______________________________________

The perfumer

perfume-bottles

The perfumer

By night he dreams of three exotic ladies in harem pants, adorned with beads and misty coins, whirling together in a heady dance.

The dance of the three ladies, beginning with the light touch of one that awakens his senses to the fleeting now, shimmy from the top; then the heart and body of the second dancer snaking and shivering with the middle notes, the music punching the air, staccato hips; joined by the final dancer, who lingers over rich, base notes, infused in the atmosphere, undulating torso.

Arms and bodies fuse in a confluence of silk, flesh and hazy smoke, forming a pyramid of inspiration burning in his

nose.

 

______________________________

 

 

Note: the fragrance pyramid consists of top notes, middle notes and base notes to create the perfume, that the perfumer will create

 

The battle of black and colour

colour-pencils-color-paint-draw-50996.jpeg

Black was ruthless

This was not a friend but an enemy, absorbing all colours, pretending to protect but leaving each shade weak and puny, hidden in the depths, breathlessly submissive,

dormant

the colours rested, exhausted but dogged and resolute, waiting for light to penetrate the dark shield.

Then light came

a dawning realisation of hope began to strengthen their form
a radiant heat of love teased the tint into the open, for all to see
a cascade of optimism splashed and sated this new world

and a rainbow of colours emerged

triumphant in their glowing beauty.

 

Blue

blue
today
there are no clouds
to mask the breathing space
the sun, manic and playful
holds my chin roughly
forcing my face
to the sky
look up
animate those dark eyes
break open your gaze
look up
above the grey tree line
above the uniform boxes people exist in
above the forlorn, thin wires
hanging between haggard timber poles
conducting a well worn tale
of power and currency
thin wires that
swing ever so slightly
in a quiet breeze
tinged with the residue
of a cold winter
look up
see this blue sky, so famous
this blue
will never be captured in paint
never with stage-managed words
look up
you need eyes
and a luminous heart,
to capture the real blue