Undone

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you sing
sing me your loudest secrets
your softest pieces

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you dance
dance me your stories
dance them one by one

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you paint
paint me your mind’s sunrise
and your heart’s sunset

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you cook
cook me your fondest memories
your mother’s best, your father’s first

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you think
tell me things that make me think
tell me riddles, put my mind in a maze

Come undone for me
Don’t tell me that you sin
Rid me of my qualms
Rip me apart and sway me

Come undone for me
as I undo
the threads
of my soul

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Unsocial Media

You give your mind to influencers

you weigh your worth in follows

you sing for your unsung heroes

and for those caught in the throes

of choosing between selling art

and artfully selling.

You see them turning the corner

seeking the fame bubble

whilst around them

the earth turns to rubble.

You join the stage

crying for the spotlight

in their popularity theatre

are you any better?

And when reality hits you

like a meteorite sent from above

will you be able to leave

the billion shadows

the million stories

the thousand uploads

the hundred likes

the ten pings

the fake you?

 

 

Consalita

Amma
I wish I was there
to hold your hand
when you were younger
crossing streets
with your eyes closed.

Amma
I wish I knew
the words to tell you
you are everything
my sunshine and my storm
my strength and my weakness
my love and my fear

Amma
Do you know
I love your name
Consalita
To console
but none
consoled you

Amma
You cut off your wings
So I could have them
No happiness without gratitude
No achievement without perseverance
No knowledge without humility
No me without you

Amma
Yes mama, I pray
to Mother Mary
Mathave rekshikenney
Like you taught me to
she’ll save me
as she saved you

Amma
for what it’s worth
let me repay
your time, your love
your grace, your health
let me put you
on a pedestal
let me console you
Consalita

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Cheers to Babylon

We’ll meet again one day

in Babylon, it’s not far away

I’ll lay out my armour

you’ll leave your armchair

We’ll sing tales of old

We’ll find out in time

Mozart’s unfinished requiem

You’ll play Lacrimosa

and I’ll call you Barbarossa

We’ll look for St. Clementine

is he still on his tea and croissants?

We’ll sing of Galileo

and reminisce Ronnie Dio

Do you think he feels hollow

Despite them chanting

Eppur Si Muove

And when you’ve found love

And I’ve found life

we’ll send each other postcards

written in the dark

in the shadows of a theater

while Lubitsch paints a story

and we find we’re turning thirty

We’ll raise our pens in silence

Cheers to Babylon.

 

Schadenfreude

Is it my turn now to play your game
to fill the gaps of incompetency
that you insist on flaunting
like an asset, the fact that you manage
to get your way and never get fired

Is it my turn now to fill the shoes
that would never fit you
but were kept for you
to be the sole that wears out later
while you remain polished leather

Is it my turn now to put up a facade
to claim teamwork where it was anything but,
to sacrifice my sleep for the sake of yours
while I’m crying in a downpour

Is it my turn now to step down
to turn my back on you
to never look back
to seek gratitude while there’s time
while you seek schadenfreude
Is it my turn now or is it yours?

Je Suis Enchante

I see my dreams

they lie in glass bottles

with stoppers made of

my mind’s fuzziness

They toss and turn

like a ship on high seas

a ship in a bottle

once in, never to escape

the entrails of our conversation

lie strewn across the waves

I see a whirlpool

Its froth, my chatter

spiralling inward

Do you see the sails

how they wave for help

to an invisible audience

And the trombone player

breathes faster

Allegro vivace

as it sinks

Your voice

follows me to the end

You guide

the orchestra

of a thousand ships

Je suis enchante