You play me as brilliantly as your violin,
So why don't I hear the melody,
That once winged its way in pulsed vibrations?
Light as the stroke of the artist's brush,
Your finger tips press, tilt and draw the bow,
To curve sound in space.
So why do harmonies now grate?
And the once refined curves, now jar out only discord?
Play purely, harmonies and melodies, with,
sharp and jagged edges?
Tushie 1992
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
FLEXIBLE SPACE
There is no music in my heart,
I am alone again with me.
This small space contains all.
My finger tips barely brush the walls.
Like a possum to an apple,
I tempt my mind out of the steel cage.
I work diligently at the mind's steel trap.
But wait, the walls are not of steel, but rubber.
Slowly space stretches, and makes room for me.
Tushie 1992
FRIENDSHIP
I have a friend, a good friend.
We talk and laugh, and drink black coffee,
From small silver cups.
she came last week, and the week before.
We talked about Manet, looked at her books on art
It feels as if she never left. Yes a good friend.
Even so, when she drives away, I feel a strange need,
to check all my fingers and toes, just to make sure,
I'm still, all in one piece.
Tushie 1992
I am alone again with me.
This small space contains all.
My finger tips barely brush the walls.
Like a possum to an apple,
I tempt my mind out of the steel cage.
I work diligently at the mind's steel trap.
But wait, the walls are not of steel, but rubber.
Slowly space stretches, and makes room for me.
Tushie 1992
FRIENDSHIP
I have a friend, a good friend.
We talk and laugh, and drink black coffee,
From small silver cups.
she came last week, and the week before.
We talked about Manet, looked at her books on art
It feels as if she never left. Yes a good friend.
Even so, when she drives away, I feel a strange need,
to check all my fingers and toes, just to make sure,
I'm still, all in one piece.
Tushie 1992
Monday, April 23, 2012
A BLAZING STAR
Petal by petal, bud by bud
Like a blazing star she opened herself
Enveloped herself in the perfume of her satin petal skin.
Covered each bloom in kisses, plucked,
And wrenched the breath from her own heart,
Then faded in the darkness and parched earth..
Tuhie 1992
Like a blazing star she opened herself
Enveloped herself in the perfume of her satin petal skin.
Covered each bloom in kisses, plucked,
And wrenched the breath from her own heart,
Then faded in the darkness and parched earth..
Tuhie 1992
DESTRUCTION
You deceived us daily, sprinkled, calculated clues over your lies,
Made a paste of your depression, spread its dull dry crust, over our lives.
Decided you were too ill to get up, to raise even a hand to help yourself out of of bed
With eyes closed, lips pressed tight, hands folded in stiff repose, your game had a razor edge.
Below the surface, you paddled tirelessly, always improving your lot.
Chipping away at each child, willing to steal their very soul for any cheap and shallow plot.
But when bone is reached, and all is flayed, ugly and flawed,
And your children blunder blind into the world, through a wide flung open door,
What then desperate lady? what then? you once screeching, heartless shrew.
Because then, out of the many, you loved not even one, now not even one, can love you.
Trish 1991
Made a paste of your depression, spread its dull dry crust, over our lives.
Decided you were too ill to get up, to raise even a hand to help yourself out of of bed
With eyes closed, lips pressed tight, hands folded in stiff repose, your game had a razor edge.
Below the surface, you paddled tirelessly, always improving your lot.
Chipping away at each child, willing to steal their very soul for any cheap and shallow plot.
But when bone is reached, and all is flayed, ugly and flawed,
And your children blunder blind into the world, through a wide flung open door,
What then desperate lady? what then? you once screeching, heartless shrew.
Because then, out of the many, you loved not even one, now not even one, can love you.
Trish 1991
Sunday, April 22, 2012
QUICKSILVER
Come and see what I see.
Catch it now! Look!
It's gone, you were too slow.
But don't fret, it'll come back.
And when it does, I'll call you.
But next time you must be quick!
Tushie 1993
Catch it now! Look!
It's gone, you were too slow.
But don't fret, it'll come back.
And when it does, I'll call you.
But next time you must be quick!
Tushie 1993
IMAGINING
I'm creating worlds of my own,
And putting them into poems,
And if I've the urge to fly,
Well, I'll just launch myself on high.
I'm writing, how things should be,
happy stories for you and for me.
In my story poems people are, good and true,
They laugh and live as cheerful folks do.
Yes, I'm writing worlds of my own,
and calling them my story poems.
Tushie
And putting them into poems,
And if I've the urge to fly,
Well, I'll just launch myself on high.
I'm writing, how things should be,
happy stories for you and for me.
In my story poems people are, good and true,
They laugh and live as cheerful folks do.
Yes, I'm writing worlds of my own,
and calling them my story poems.
Tushie
DINNER FOR TWO
Here we are, a cosy couple dining out, we fit in well.
I know the musicians and the owners, they know others,
Who we get to know, and really it should be just great!
But there's a problem, I don't know you and you don't know me.
From out of a blank eye, the flat head on my plate stares at me
Our whole image is captured, in its dead,empty, awful look.
Tushie 1992
I know the musicians and the owners, they know others,
Who we get to know, and really it should be just great!
But there's a problem, I don't know you and you don't know me.
From out of a blank eye, the flat head on my plate stares at me
Our whole image is captured, in its dead,empty, awful look.
Tushie 1992
Friday, April 20, 2012
THE YOUNG WOMAN
It is strange this way I have, of leaving a small yearning part of myself behind. Such as I did that summer, many years ago. It was a pleasant evening, and as I strolled by her open door, I caught a glimpse of her world.
I was a stranger, and glanced but once. But, too late, I'd fallen in love with what I saw.
In a room aglow with the color of honey, she knelt, brush and pan in hand,
sweeping something from the golden polished boards. Her thick plaited brown hair, gleamed, it was partly covered with a large white handkerchief, and a long white apron covered her dark clothes. The whole room was a frame to the lovely young woman. I tell you, it was truly a beautiful picture to behold, and I longed to own it. And so, I bought it, with my yearning The image became mine forever.
Tushie 1992
I was a stranger, and glanced but once. But, too late, I'd fallen in love with what I saw.
In a room aglow with the color of honey, she knelt, brush and pan in hand,
sweeping something from the golden polished boards. Her thick plaited brown hair, gleamed, it was partly covered with a large white handkerchief, and a long white apron covered her dark clothes. The whole room was a frame to the lovely young woman. I tell you, it was truly a beautiful picture to behold, and I longed to own it. And so, I bought it, with my yearning The image became mine forever.
Tushie 1992
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