2018.3 - Mary

All this time and she has never
Ventured further than the garden gate.
Evening falls and the day’s round falters
May I? he says, soft as falling blossom
And she, she knows she shouldn’t,
Ripe to fall herself, she reaches forward,
Inked with growing shadows,
A grace that few have missed but this
Gentle stranger dares what others bypass,
Rare and passing fair -
A sight for starving eyes.
Tell me a story - tell me of the place that birthed you, she murmurs, twilit
I was born to light the darkness that no mind can span,
And sang the spheres with my eternal siblings,
Plumbed the legion depths and sought the heights,
Laboured long in loving servitude until
Enough! I cried. For pity’s sake!
Never enough, it whispered.
And so I fell, for love. And so you, divided, rose.

2016.10 Once Upon A Time

This is something I'll be doing more of longer-term for highlighting #theselkie; in the meantime, enjoy this series of themed senryū (bonus points for guessing the origins): 

The lonely monarch
Grasps a heart, which freezes - now
His sister seeks them.

A betrayal of
Fragments gathers them into
A sticky embrace.

A great heart lusts for
Larger adventures. Cow make
For strange vehicles.

Three vessels marred, and
One consumed. Rudeness comes in
A golden package.

Warnings aren't enough;
Troubles cluster to colours;
What big eyes you've got!

Tempers best kept have
Left threads tangled. A nameless
Solution now looms.

Strange, sensitive soul;
To stay high and dry you must
Pass a testing night.

A wish gifts movement
But soon truth will be proved by
This rhinomancy.

Learn to love his stuff -
Swapping won't bring back good times,
Rub it all you like.

It's jam tomorrow -
Good marketing brings rewards:
Seven at one blow.

---

Yes, I'm running behind. It'll all work out by Saturday, I'm sure...

2015.12 - Devices

Green 

You whisper at night
Of theft, shine cruel light on all
My pitiful gifts

Gold 

One word can turn my
Head, spin me breathless in an
Endless mirror cave

Purple 

I squirm, caressing
Everything, dig deep, and come
Up sticky-fingered

Pink

Crammed to the rafters
I gape still, trying to fill
That elusive gap

Blue

If only I could
Stir myself to...

Orange

Less than the sum of
My parts, my heart hold no more
Space for charity

Red

Raze it to the ground,
Delight in the hollow thump
Of fists and bootheels


_______________________

There are traditional colours for these things, apparently, but I've chosen my own...

#6 What Next?

#7 Excel Now

1

I met a man once
Who was brindled with kisses,
Dusted with love
From crown to tail.

He smiled at me sidelong,
I grinned at his misses,
And none of us got
To St. Ives that day.

2

She winds her hair into
A loose carapace,
Stretches, all self-conscious,
Face averted says:
"Well, I don't tend to
Credit it - this superstitious stuff."

I nod, I've never told her just
How many times my mother tried,
How many times my mother cried,
And what that makes me.

I stare in the direction
Of her reflection-absorbed visage,
Thinking bitterly how blissful
Ignorance must be.

3

Stack their several
Personalities and you
Might get a whole man.

Stereotyping
Is irresistible and
I'm not paid enough.

They're sitting on a
Gold mine but can't see it yet;
It makes me so mad.

4

I tried counting them -
Definitely more than a handful,
And less than two,
The task proving tricky.

More an elegant
Coincidence than what
You might call a pack,
They lack the desire to gather

So I never measured them
Successfully, never discovered
If it was her or her seeming sister
I kissed that night
Before she glided clean away.

5

Before I knew
What I was doing
They were twinkling in my hand
Then in my pocket.

"Docking your wages," I think,
"Won't start to cover this,"
But the tingling bliss of possession
Springs me through the door.

More than enough
To start anew
If I haven't screwed myself
Past the sticking point.

6

I don't hold with
All that - animal parts,
Mutant plants,
Pasternosters handed out.

You make your own -
Blow your own tune,
Rue your own mistakes,
Roll high on good stakes

Or trust your blood
The alchemy of a mother's
Final gift,
A glittering list of fathers,
Further shores beckoning;
It always pays
To plan your reckoning.

7

I've seen my share
Held them beating
Or trickling from my grip
And one night -
One memorable night -
I tasted all of them.
Mostly one by one,
But some at the same time.
Delicious, really.

Except this one -
And who seeks her out?
The green-eyed sister
Who lives to lurk
Around blissful corners,
To jump and tug you down,
Gritted teeth chiming
Down to your icy guts.

The best I've garnered
From her hooked embrace
Is to face up,
And gently talk her to the floor,
Then stand on her back
To better see what next.
You've got to get high
If you want to excel.