My belle

My belle

Big beautiful roses have long stems
Hormones and selective breeding
Growing the body mine desires
Yet tainted by this falseness

Irony. Symbolism. Lesson.
But it’s unlearned.
Nothing is known.
Like why is it I find

The odd one out special
An exception to the rule
Falling into a finite band
Whose boundaries obstruct

One side says she’s the one
Whereas the other enumerates
Long lists of components
Hormones and selective thinking.

A moment’s peace

A moment’s peace

Inspired by a drum beat
The downward spiral of keys
Harpsichord and accordion
Then cutlery, crockery clatter
A steam burst, milk froths

Closer still, individual voices
Fading in and out of range
Random and incessant action
Accompanied by punctual rhythms
Both catering to my soul

But which do I prefer
Does music lift me up
As I strive to catch the melody
Or is my imagination stretched
By snippets of conversations

Then it occurs to me
I’m not alone
And more problems exist
Here collectively
Than in my single life

Dithering globalist

Dithering globalist

My life ticks backwards
While glancing over my shoulder
And thinking I should
Face up to things

I sit and wax lyrical
Into a vinyl cylinder
An ode to joy
With an eastern allure.

Some cultures attract
Others threaten
Drawing pretty lines
In defecation brown

Global homunculi
Featuring sensitive spots
And a soft underbelly.
I reject the arguments

In favour of backtracking
Knowing old times
Are not what we want
Yet cleanliness calls.