The Rabbit Hole

I must be falling

Into the void

Still

/

And the disgusting

Images

I’m seeing

/

Are either

My

Memories

/

Or but conjectures

Of my mind,

Dying;

/

Endlessly deep,

Lonely

And cold

/

Is the imagination’s

Rabbit hole;

/

As through it

I half-soar,

Half-fall,

/

I can’t remember

Who I really

Was,

/

I’m seeing someone

I don’t

Recognize

/

Who’s doing things

Which make me wish

I didn’t have my eyes

/

Endlessly deep,

Lonely

And cold

/

Is this rabbit hole

With mirrors

For walls

The Bleak House

The toys I used to love,
The loves I have outgrown,
The hungry dogs of hopes,
Which have devoured
One another,
/
Voids, interspersed with holes,
Mountains of wind and smoke,
Oceans, painted on desert sands
By jinns and ghosts –
/
My memories;
/
At my house at the edge of the world,
With cracked windows and doors agape
I’ll look away as I lock away
Everything I have
Ever known;
/
I will call the bleak house my home,
Sit and sit on the steps outside,
Staring vacantly out at things
Without knowing their names
Or mine,
/
My memories
/
Gone

The One, Who Laughs

In you, who never ceases to laugh,

I recognize the Goddess of Sorrow,

Having bowed at your feet a million times,

I’d know your gait among a million others;

/

Wherever you may go, like a shadow,

The shadow of the Goddess of Sorrow,

I follow, changing sides as the sun does,

Loosing you for a moment at noon;

/

I walk with you towards your lost altar,

Where memories of joy lie abandoned,

Dissected by your sharp nails, which, like mine,

Posses the power to drain warmth out of life;

/

You dance upon them – leaves of your autumn,

Trample on them like enemy armies,

Kneel before them, like gods of your fathers,

Trying to breathe life back into dust;

/

Your empty temple, Goddess of Sorrow,

Is built upon a solid foundation

Of loneliness, of fear, of obsession

With happiness, which simply can’t last;

/

All gods have fallen, temples have crumbled

All altars have been washed of delusions;

But not your altar, Goddess of Sorrow –

You will forever have cause to laugh

Postcards from …

There are skeletons in my closet,

There’s an elephant in the room;

There’s something in the air and water;

Whispers spread as blue evening blooms

 /

I sit cross-legged in the corner

On the floor, where my fevered dreams

Lie before me, dissected, rotting,

Magic stolen from them – by me

 /

So I cut and paste back together

Mountain peaks, bullrings, oceans, ice

Smiling faces, well-wishes, curses,

Universities, slums, loves, lies…

 /

And the skeletons in my closet

Start to dance to forgotten chants

And the elephant kneels before me;

Smiling, we travel through my past

 /

To the time I believed in magic

And knew how to fulfil a dream;

Watching myself change, scared, I notice

 That I’ve grown tired, cold and meek