Thursday, 13 February 2020

That's the Thing : that which is unsaid


Musings at sunrise & sunset
Many things unsaid but the thoughts remain
The skies while travelling hither & thither with Dad
When you travel with elder loved ones
They're the reason, and that's the thing:
Patience is the currency of Love

Away from home: follow the light

Enroute from home to somewhere: the skies they speak to us

Far from home: an awakening that the sea cures everything

The way home: you can sense it in the clouds and the skies

At home: Dad and I go cloud-gazing on a lovely morning

Bless
The sky-gazers united and
The cloud appreciation society
Of Dad, Bro, and, I
Will always be in session
Wherever Dad is, there we are
Together or apart
The skies and the clouds unite us



Anne V (2012 till to-date)





Friday, 31 January 2020

Climbing Out is the Best Thing We Ever Did (a song for Mimi)

Fight back and obliterate the brainless masses. 

They can fool only some of the people 

some of the time and not all of us all of the time. 


Their schadenfreudical screams from the twilight zone
they reach us somehow faintly but never poison us with their fakery
and clusterfucked bluster. 

Behold we live amidst the sunlit ranks now.  
Climb out climb out and join us, reach for the skies. 
Those masses, they never deserved you anyway. 

Hugs. 

Saturday, 26 October 2019

A Submarine of Cauliflower Gas

a monster response
to quadruple the effect
and triple the reaction
to what Newton
ever envisioned

a submarine
of calculated reactions
cauliflower blasts
of gaseous emissions
so gently Holistic 

that it smokes out
the purple people eaters
hidden behind
hollow doors slamming
all creakily cryptic

the monster cramming
a mash of purple jamming
a bash of people eaters
the squid-ink hash
of the methane-gassed

zombie brainbangers
holding dhobi hangers
ptsd-ing the young
into aging men and women
escaping in old datsuns

seeking their respite in 
sun, sea, sand and
cauliflower wind
can they ever macArthur
the turmoils within

a tribute to Dirk and Douglas
and those who've left 
their towels behind
many salmony light-years away
Y'know wha' I mean?

Anne V (25.10.2019)


Tuesday, 22 October 2019

Between the Spaces Unknown

The face skin
It caves in doesn't it
On the inside

arrhythmically struck
thoughts hit tearducts
hopes never subside

This is loss then
The feeling of glass shards
In all our tomorrows and when

a scalpel of skin 
a line draws itself
the heart is the sand

this is it then
dark feeling of necessity 
eyes that screech

between what we want
and what shan't
be the deciding breach

15 kilometres of space
the strings extend 
see the hearts reach

thoughts sown in trips
only alone when alone
be infinite take the hits

from skin to bone
a cocoon splits
the rain sets the tone

between the time-spaces
the moments unknown
ad astra ad continuum

Anne V
22.10.2019








Monday, 7 October 2019

Bump (a song for mum)

head bump
because
I said so

God of the End of Things
do you see me
standing here
 
all carbon burnt
no mercy
down to the bone

just chunks
of petrified
Wood

no hints
of a rewrite
only the stillness

Waiting,
a wraith of time
holds fast

Smiling,
dead in the lime
Brown eyes
That beckon

Lights dim
spaghetti monster
gets eaten

No lightning crash
i will not rhyme
any happy words
with flash

but see here
I'll give this a
John Wick-ish gash
and an existential smash

all blackest red
and moon ink

see me here
all mariana personified
deep in the trenches

The mendacity
of second dimensional hope
The fluttering candle lopes

Like a jackal in hunger
yet awaiting
the hippopotamus
bump off

the third dimensional
reality cliff
awaits us all

freefall into the rainbows
a tomorrow of stars
in a windless eternity

of dimples and
head bumps

starry
and brightly blue

my mum
she gleams
I see you


Anne V (2019)






Saturday, 5 October 2019

A Different Kind of Narcissus (the kind that is Eternal)

I see you
I see through you
And I know you
Your shiny brown eyes
Through and through

Glossy two-way (it feels)
mirrors, no, no, they are lasers
inscribed in memory
of your face reflected lovingly
Gleaming back at  me

A thousand billion notes
chromatically they fling out
contrapuntal richochets
broken shards shimmy
Eyes of pearl tears and yearning
Video calls and FaceTime
Zero-sum meaning
Are those glances cast down
a carnival djinny-clown
A beautiful rictus
The denial licks us
the loss of self kicks us

You only want
what you see
You only love
who you used to be
and that makes me
insecure everywhere else

Time-keeper of my soul
Are you still in time
to see the rest of us
Standing here waiting
Loving you
Because of what you are
In spite of what
you and I have become
through the years

The Demigods of Circadia
universe Interrupted
Can you not see
the destruction
of the dusk
feel the utter lunacy
continuing adjacent
of smashed clock-hands
ground to a fine metal powder
intra-dimensional separation
inter-localities ignored
from dawn to dusk
in an endless loop
through decades
and suddenly
kilometers so far apart
they might as well
be light-years

Deity Terminus
Sordid self-absorbed
Oxygen-breathers
Can't grind things down
Into cosmic sand
That blows through
Eternity and beyond
Time-wasters
of mindless hopes
Vanquishers
of time and space
So beloved
most pungently
rafflesiacal
of blooms
O maniacal montage

O beloved Timekeeper
(and Madman with Daughter)
in our midst
Narcissus flowers three
This was a story
of filial piety
spanning the
dusk and dawn
of two centuries
And now

Angelus Terminus
You loom
over us all
A stopwatch
Most Jugular
In our midst
It will all end
when you do
the arterial jump
that binds
infinite combinations
of a calm peace

And then, silence



-Anne V (2019)




Saturday, 24 August 2019

Nonsense Rhymes #113



The stars they stare down at me

As I decide to walk down the alley

It is a shortcut to the car park

I hear the footsteps approaching

A long shadow floats
Dressed all in black
I am sure I have melted into the night
I cannot be seen
Just as the footsteps come upon me
I turn around

and give a bloodcurdling yowl
And the shadow falls down

with a howl

I hear his ankles crack

I frightened him
Dressed all in black

What a sight
I am the vampire

That has melted into the night


Anne V (2019)

Thursday, 12 October 2017

The Street Urchin

Found this piece in an old journal which I have been shredding. Saved this one during the final annihilation. 


The Street Urchin

There was a little bright red flower growing by the embankment on the side of the road. Its petals quivered gently in the dusty wind. Its stalk bent delicately yet it held on there. Giving a pop of cheerful colour to everyone passing by.

Then. 

The huge wheels of a trailer went over the embankment throwing up bits of kerb and crushing the green green grass…turning it all to mush. Killing a biker. Raising up dust. And when the trailer’s wheels passed, the flower still stood. 

It was a little flower of no particular consequence, no great pedigree. But it survived. Tall. Proud. Alive.

It danced in the wind. 

Commiserating. 

Offering beauty to pedestrians, passers-by and paramedics. A requiem for dead bikers. 

The idea that one could survive all odds, except one. 

The dust cleared. The wind stuttered.

The flower shivered.

Nothing moved for a bit. 

Then a small little hand with grubby fingernails reached out and plucked the flower. Tucked it behind a little ear. Bleeding knees. Dirty toes. Runny nose. Smiling face. 

Beautiful red flower.

The Angel of Death. 

Sometimes he is a sleepy trucker. Sometimes he is the winds that blow. And sometimes...

He is a 5 year old street urchin.


Anne V



Tuesday, 1 August 2017

Mercenary for Hire

Ah the horrors of an empty appointment book
A mercenary for hire has not job security
One goeth where the money taketh thee
And thus ended this prose
For there is no poetry in the hustle
Of a daily existence

-Anne V

Wednesday, 12 October 2016

The Pot of Seven Colours

We stand here on the brink
The very edge of the rainbow
Peering into the pot of seven colours
It contains no leprechaun's gold
But a starlight diorama of bliss
of her best most-dimpled smiles
And his brightly gregarious guffaws
I want to leap merrily and freely
Into the lightning starburst 
Collect all their astral glitter dust
And free them all from the ties that bind
I hesitate daily...because to do so
Would be to bring
the angel winds of silence
Into his life once more
I seek to try again, another year

Anne the Obscure

Saturday, 18 June 2016

Prose That Goes Nowhere (After 5.00am)

The silence gets to me first
The lack of anyone else breathing
The sound of my own thoughts
Loudly comes the clanging in my head
Then I realize that this is the life I chose.
Complaints of sleep deprivation
and lack of time to do the necessary
Causes one to lose the custody
Of that which is precious
One's daddy dearest gone eccentric
The remaining parental unit left
and one's sole companion
Surrendered to the BU three
Of brother, sister in law & lil niece
Death is the next adventure
Maybe it comes too soon
Maybe it come not at all
Maybe it lives in my snot
As I finish another 3 hour session
of tears and transcriptions.
Hugging my coffee cup
It is the only thing
in this empty apartment
That shares its warmth with me
Damn cats think I am being eaten
by crows and alligators
When the tears spring out at 3am.
Maybe if I superglue
all five of them together
And recite some furball incantations
They will turn into the affectionate dog
I always wanted and could not have
But whither
the five kitteh furballs goeth
If I do that?
Do I get them back after the spell?
Will the local council
confiscate my cat-dog then?
No dogs in apartments, hey.
Maybe there is a spell
To make him shape-shift
Between 1 big dog and
5 itteh bitteh kittehs...
Random segueway
What in the hell am I writing here?
Snap out of this shit, eh?
Get thy act together dumbass
And go get one's father back
[R2D2 beeps. Lightsaber clicks.]
Lightning zap
*drops mike*
Anne the Obscure

Thursday, 16 June 2016

Metamorphosis

I wonder if the metamorphosis from
caterpillar to butterfly is painful.
It seems the metamorphosis
from a person with family
to a person with no one to call one's own
It is ghastly.

I never wanted to get married
I never wanted the 2.5 kids and the house
with the picket fence
But I thought that my dad and I
We would always be a team.
Ever since mum died in 1999
Dad and I, we have been a team
Each other's family

And now
My dad is staying with my brother
And I am alone in this apartment
Well
I guess my brother deserves
to have my dad for a bit

Anne V




Tuesday, 16 February 2016

Excerpt of an old Love ode...all wrapped in Chocolate Raves

I remember your laser-like glistening smile
The nonchalant whistle, those piercing brown eyes
That stared at me under Bellamy Hill's evening light

You glared at her and proclaimed her my abuser
Threatened to sic the Gurkhas on her if she kept talking
You knew her evil right away, you saw me before I saw myself

I will bathe myself in dark dark chocolate
I will find you in the deepening hours of the night
We'd eat salty caramel chocolate and bump the briny bits

I see you lick these hard chocolate nips
And taste my dark rummy super toffee chocolatey love
All over your pouty prickly peppery pineapple lips.

-Anne V






Saturday, 19 December 2015

The Flame of Our Universe (and the Story of Us)

Sitting here amidst the clutter...
Books and papers, albums of memory
I see an ant crawling along the wall
Following it I see a line, a crack
And then I know where this leads...
These fissures came at the end of 2004
Not only a tsunami that changed us
It was the beginning of the end of days

The windmilling shift in our lives...
Began when you flew away without me
To find the world at your fingertips
And fantastical ideas to towel-whip
Acolytes who laugh at dirty coffee mugs...
And deny the truth before their eyes
They hate the same things as anyone else
A decade will soon bring boon to bane

While I stayed behind to honour and keep
The utopia of our joint memories...
You know this - but do they all know
Have you made it clear to them
What binds us? Yellow ribbons and rosaries?
The litany of light-years dividing our lives?
When you stop remembering us...
I see I will become the keeper of stories

And if i haven't already made the shift
Maybe I soon will morph into Nanny Poppins
The professional mollycoddler of dreams
Parachuteless skydiver resident handwringer
Well screw that...
I never signed on the dotted line
I never gave you permission to age
Nor promised you an eternity without me

Anne V

Saturday, 31 October 2015

Schooled

Feeling anonymous and yet not so unknown
I stare pseudo-balefully at the screen. Not again!
Incessant hay fever attacks strip away at my patience
FaceTime moments behind faceless micron masks take their toll

They demand cavernous coronary-causing rate reductions
Not knowing how much work goes into every gorgeous submission
Ensuring accuracy, perfection and absolute precision

In a Lecterian moment of dramatis imaginae I scream for blood
I dream of yelling at supersonic volumes into the night sky
Sandblasting their pleading eyeballs into tiny shards of submission

Lightly grilling their ocular liquids with red auras of my rage
Colouring the shades of my lethal declaration of nays
Thus they slither away.

Eyeless, discountless, schooled
Schooled.

...
...
...

Until I feel guilty and cave in.

Rate reduction approved.

...
...
...

So, who was schooled again?



Anne V

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

The Mirage of Happy Land

Behind the flouncy flippancy
(and the fried friendliness)
lies thoughts about Death
If you must know
I never got over yours

and I never ever will get over his
Is there any rule that I should?
(and thank the Gods of poetry and verse
that he does not read blogs)

Behind the rhymes and verses
Is a hope, a lightness of being
At the truth of the impermanence of things
One grows weary of the outward happy land
with all this secretly internalized grieving

How many years does one do this? When does it end?
Soon there will come a time
When we won't waste a single rhyme

Must I be the only one with this fever
The sole witness left standing
An emotional spectator to these shifts
Paradigmal, central, mental, unfathomable
spinning unending

Did you see the clouds flashing?
How long do we play for?
Can it be forever?

Immortality is when I need to try no more
And deep into the night air
I shall banish all fear all sorrow all me
I step out and vanish softly
into the eternal inter-space of existence

Remember that you knew me
And that we had a moment
Memories of sun-browned days

during the laughter
and the happy days
Listen for the rain
and the shiny silver
lightning strike

And just like the words
my favourite poet echoed
I am in the thousand winds that blow

We will live forever


-Anne V


NB: the phrase *...thousand winds that blow...* is from Mary Elizabeth Frye's poem, Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

Friday, 4 September 2015

Hello again poetry peeps and my dear followers

I have been missing for half a year as life got in the way...the thing is, I have been writing and journaling with no time to put things online. I just scribble whenever I have time lol. Well here are 3 drafts I worked on in recent months, just shared them earlier here for you to contemplate and muse on. I will post more poems when I feel like sharing verse and rhyme, aiming to be more regular!!!

I also share here, my favorite poem "A Life" by Sylvia Plath.

 Touch it: it won't shrink like an eyeball,
This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear.
Here's yesterday, last year ---
Palm-spear and lily distinct as flora in the vast
Windless threadwork of a tapestry.
Flick the glass with your fingernail:
It will ping like a Chinese chime in the slightest air stir
Though nobody in there looks up or bothers to answer.
The inhabitants are light as cork,
Every one of them permanently busy.
At their feet, the sea waves bow in single file.
Never trespassing in bad temper:
Stalling in midair,
Short-reined, pawing like paradeground horses.
Overhead, the clouds sit tasseled and fancy
As Victorian cushions. This family
Of valentine faces might please a collector:
They ring true, like good china.
Elsewhere the landscape is more frank.
The light falls without letup, blindingly.
A woman is dragging her shadow in a circle
About a bald hospital saucer.
It resembles the moon, or a sheet of blank paper
And appears to have suffered a sort of private blitzkrieg.
She lives quietly
With no attachments, like a foetus in a bottle,
The obsolete house, the sea, flattened to a picture
She has one too many dimensions to enter.
Grief and anger, exorcised,
Leave her alone now.
The future is a grey seagull
Tattling in its cat-voice of departure.
Age and terror, like nurses, attend her,
And a drowned man, complaining of the great cold,
Crawls up out of the sea.

Black Dragons in the mist

So this is the truth then behind the silence
A balaclava on a dragon
And mist in my bones
That is what happened
Through these sudden changes in fate
Crystal seers notwithstanding
They spoke their truth 
And then their crystals shattered
So whose truth do I speak? 
I know not. 
Leave me be.
I search for black dragons in the mist 

-Anne V

A seaworthy memorare (Of ocean-sprays and jigsaws)


As I sat facing the open sea, alone always alone
Waves crashing earnestly on the beach in surround sound
I felt your warm briny soul reach out to me tingling
Arising from vapours in the midnight sea breezes
A smoky caress from a shooting star falling in the water
Do you see the self-critique peeling away from my vulcanized heart?
Sheets of black blood flowing through the ocean sprays?
Unfinished. Alone. Raw. The seas wash it all away, all that self-hate
This dusty universe that contains all the souls of the dead
Ocean-sprays that shoot their antidote in my eyes and nose
Death and rebirth by salty water is the next adventure is it not?
Why don't you have it in the seas, your coming of age, your pre mid-life crisis?
The final and the first Amen to a life spent blowing jets of hope
Into the dry dirtily demanding land-winds that heed you not
Here it comes, Neptune's jagged emerald sword crashes over your head
A memorare, a jigsaw that drums out the mermaid soul you were born to have


Anne V

Monday, 22 December 2014

An Invisible Flash In the Night (a silent prayer behind the Light)

Far from the maddening crowd the future stands smiling
And yet I shiver and crouch in these cold pressing shadows
Do I deserve any time in the sun?
Will the robin red breast come a-calling if I sing?

Far from the beckoning gestures my brother and sister give in word and deed
Calling me to be all I can be for everyone's sake - every life for itself the path is drawn
I stand here and as they keep striding on further and further ahead on that brick road
Will the road rise up to greet me if I start running towards them three?

Far from the silvery hairs gleaming on my father's jawline
I think of what I am meant to be if I am no longer his keeper
Apart from being the spare to the heir and the optimistic dancing bear
Will lady of the skies answer my longing stares at her morning face

The very idea of a universe without my father's face, faith and hope in it
Makes my brain shiver and shriek loud screams that cannot be heard by human ears
Who are you to ask me to think of a future without him, you Judas of my home?
Have you seen the paths we have trod on together, have you seen his faith in me?

No one else has that.

Far from the shrinking daylight the fading past throws me a bloodily frayed rope
A black hunting shadow sounds a throaty barking as it sends a final lasso calling
Do I deserve to escape its gallow-like bellows as they thrill me with shivers?
Will my feet answer with quicksilver speed and protect me from its unforgiven pull?

No else can do that.

Answer me o Angel of Salahin, Saul and Michael. And Gabriel, one hopes. 
I have tried to be all I can be within the boxes you set and the lines you draw
Must I try again and again despite secretly aiming for the centre of the earth?
Will thy wings lift me up into the heavenly winds or scatter me on the rocks?

Tell me.



Anne V (9 September 2014)
(Excerpts from The Cavern)


Thursday, 30 October 2014

Pumpkin Murder

Pumpkin
I don't want to carve you
No I don't

I want to boil you
Roast you
Eat you

Fry you with herbs
Saute you
Not design art on you

I want to bludgeon you
With my cleaver
Nothing else really

No smiling face and beady eyes
No grinning teeth for you
Only my chomping jaws

Happy Halloween

Anne V  (backdated to the date I wrote this, the eve of All Hallow's Eve, 2014)

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

Haiku Hotness

Hope thunders
Diagonal lightning strikes
No more talk

Anne V (thoughts of Diwali)



Sunday, 12 October 2014

Fifteen Years the bell tolled my thoughts

I think of you in the sunlight
I think of you in the dark
I think of you with love
And my heart overflows

I think of you in my silence
I think of you when dad smiles
I think of you when the music plays
And my heart overflows

I think of you in the mist
I think of you in the winds
I think of you with grief
And my soul hums a requiem

I think of you in my happiness
I think of you through the pain
I think of you when it all gets too hard
And my soul lightly trembles

I think of you and the missing answers
I think of you and your dimples
I don't need to hear you say it
You loved me and my soul knows it.


Anne V (in memory of mum, RIP)





Wednesday, 1 October 2014

Brihadaranyaka Upanishad - on Immortality

Sorry I have been missing for a month and then some. I will visit you all in turn to see what's been happening with your blogs!

For the record, I have been writing every day but I haven't had the time to type up any poems from my journal. My father has been under the weather with a bad case of the flu, then bad pertussis from said flu, then bronchitis, and then we found that his flu meds were clashing with his heart meds.  He was in hospital for half a month and he is home now and finally recovering. A slow yet steady convalescence. 

Dad's illness made me consider our (im)mortality all over again, and if you'd like to ponder along silently with me, here is an excerpt from the Upanishad. I feel it has such poignant meaning, that whatever your faith or belief system, we are indeed stardust. 

On Immortality 

"From delusion lead me to truth,
From darkness lead me to light,
From death lead me to immortality."


- Brihadaranyaka Upanishad -

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

Another sort of terrorist (after 5.00am series)

She listened through the keyhole
and heard heartbreak
A thousand sniffles and tears
and then there were none
The keyhole became her entire universe
for awhile
Through it she could feel their pain
bloom and spread
While her blood thundered
and pounded in her head

Where could she go?
How would people know?
Maybe a fresh start
somewhere else
would do her some good
Maybe she should shake up
the local bar to get her more food
Or was that Shake down?
Her vocabulary was odd.
She felt dizzy.
Through the haze
She shook her head sorrowfully
She hung her head and thought
macabre thoughts of their deaths

Before she could think
Or feel any further
a sound came from the door
She knew in a split second
that this was too much
All the drama and hurting
Despite the three
she had so brazenly attacked
and killed without pause

When the door
shuddered open suddenly
and the whole household
Stared reproachfully
at her senseless murder
of three of their own

She had eaten
their entire month's store
of three large jars of Nutella

... ...

She needed more chocolate dammit.

... ... ...

Stat.



-Anne V


Well this piece to me, felt suitable enough for  Poetry Jam's writing prompt: An Impossible Place I hope it fit the mood, and apologies for only adding the link belatedly!

Saturday, 5 July 2014

Within The Glass (A Requiem for the Night)

When the sun finally rises and kills tonight
Shining over me its bleeding fingers
I plan to smile broadly as I burn in sin

I hear the night voices sing to me their requiem
So I know I need to appear as normal as beeswax
And be sane with your love and longing for me

Make the fragile motions to reciprocate and love
Holding your heart gently in my hand as we dance
The knives gleam as we sit down to eat birthday cake

If it seems this pedestrian behaviour is odd to me
Throws me off fearsomely completely utterly blankly
I understand why I must be silent and bear witness

The humdrum is hated because hope is a mirage
Living this life wholly one-dimensionless within the glass
A gentle face shown to you and to the world at large

Keep the horrors bottled in heady perfumed mists
The cloudy truth that we live in a continuous dusk
That I walk in a perpetual midnight

With nowhere to lay my head to rest
In a hell not of my own making I carry on
The moon shines down on this heaving wraith

Through the cracked black skies of past lives
I see shadows of your shattered lips singing
The moon casts no glow on my dry eyelids

On the withered tatters of your tears for me
Of another scene flashing across us I raise my hands
The cracked midnight skies boom across

Swallow the light my heart skips a beat or ten
If ever there were any lamps shining across the divide
Immortality does not appear gently does she?

Relief would come soon if I stopped thinking
I feel my obstinate pulse shrink as it ticks over and over
Dizziness takes hold as I imagine the telescoping future

This is what ebbing life feels like to your immortal beloved
The shaggy black dog is back in town looking for us
His chocolate brown eyes begging for a treat

His fur silky and soft and a reminder again and again
That behind the insanity of death repeated a thousand times
Lies the hope that there will be peace when I am done

Who was that wise old man who said this is life
Pain and grief, they accumulate
As does joy?

-Anne V


Fits Poetry Jam's theme this week for Thirst. In this case a thirst for peace, hope and catharsis. 

Saturday, 24 May 2014

Chocolate in chains ( and then some)

I offer my dark chocolate heart to my butterscotch lover
A creamy chocolatey love-bringer o soul stirrer
For your naughty man muscles in the warm bedcovers

Hazelnut chocolate rains over your chest and we kiss
My chocolate in chains I whip out a request even a hiss
To your mischievous man fingers trying not to miss

You promised and swore we'd never ever be apart
You'd love my orangey lemony bumpy burnt heart
And hold it so carefully in chocolate stirrups

O chocolate love so dreamy so five o'clock shadowy
Can you see me struggling with my dark vinegary soul
Are you sure I will say yes must you be so bold?

Aeons ago we cracked into a thousand million shards
Dark chocolate squares vulcanized a desert of hearts
Scraped back together in hazelnut chocolatey haste 

Now will I bathe myself in darkly divine chocolate
And come to you in the deepening hours of the night
I'd rather eat chocolate than bump briny bits 

So why don't you lick these dusky hard chocolate nips

And taste the dark rummy super butterscotchy love
All over your preciously pouty peppery pineapple lips

Then..boom! The chains fall away in a soundless tune

I look up in a daze Nutella streaming from my eyes
Oh my, Phwoaar! Am I even crying chocolate tears?

You ate my hot mocha heart topping from below
Hazelnut heart terrorist was the love all just for show?
I tried to Parry, deflect...then Crunch! I was just lunch. 

Anne V

Writing Prompt - My Lindt and Nutella Obsessions  



Friday, 23 May 2014

Give me raindrops or give me death

A metallic smell expands and lifts into the air
Hefting punching blows of magnetic heat waves
Beating torrential blasts of almost gunpowder flare
Rushing up our backs burning skin and hair

Paper lips that haven't licked nor water kissed
Looking up at slate-grey skies hoping for a glimpse
Of any unfriendly flinty water we aren't choosy
Of any yellowy glint of dew we don't care

Even a brown muddy wetness or rusty slurry glue
But no, no, not even a drop of water shines in situ
Who poured hot concrete over our once green earth
Crushing over our bodies o did we lose a devil's dare?

Empty sky squashes out over dead cloud-space
And dry-eyed dehydrated flowers sink into sandy ash
Parched cemetery a desert offering of peeling blisters
No moisture no oasis to save us no hope to spare

All around the deadened wrath of the stratosphere
Squashing the skies beneath in never ending woe
Covered in a draft of cloudless rainbow-less fear
When will this egregious water purgatory end?

From the ends of the skies a thirsty bird chirps relief
Arid fumes of a grassy pulse struggles across the winds
Give us raindrops oh please now or give us death
Fragile burnt hope beckons we tiptoe across in silence

Anne V


The Rain - A Writing Prompt from: Poetry Jam
http://poetryjaam.blogspot.com/2014/05/rain.html






Thursday, 22 May 2014

It's Totally Criminal (An Ode to Green Tea)

I have sinned in green technicolor gelato and ice
A hyper-wash of phosphorescent green and gold
Splashed around red lips, brown tips and brunette curls
As the blue and brown blankets fall from the bed
Sensual opal green puddle curls around my feet
Minty ice cream melting on a hot afternoon in May
Racing me and dripping down one olive thigh
It sounds like sexy's back but it's totally criminal
Green tea ice-cream vindicated me and my mine
But it is still dearly proscribed, it isn't a vegetable
I have sinned in cloves and droves o diet blown
Such feathery kisses xx with marzipan leprechaun men
Bringing sweet nothings that turn to mint chocolate
Who promise me a love that becomes a mirage of gold

-Anne V


Midweek Motif - The Colour Green - A Writing Prompt from Poets United
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2014/05/poets-united-midweek-motif-color-green.html


Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Death to Flowers

Please don't kill innocent flowers for me
No death to flowers no petal annihilation
I will bring red wine and smelly cheese
We'll be tiptoeing with hesitant schlep

Ask me and I'll give you a rubenesque tap
As we dance by the firelight free-falling
Off your unopened cans of antifreeze
Rumbling engines and shiny chrome in our midst

Come in your stubbly skin and manly brut
See the glint in these cheeky chocolate eyes
As I ogle your javelin throwing muscles
And how they ripple with every move every twist 

Those spanner-wielding sweaty guns
Between the hardness and the warm yield
And then I realize I've been daydreaming
The moment you asked me what I needed

This isn't a Nicholas Sparks novel oh my
You lean in to fix the air conditioning
Spray icy water over overheating engines
I also think my radiator needs servicing

Won't you fix my car mr. manly cuteness
Car workshop eye candy on the weekend
WKD 5-4-3-2-1....eye contact
Well it is hot & sweaty at the workshop

Anne V