The crackle of fire, the crinkle of tin foil
The scraping of nails on a blackboard is pain
The screams of a child can be driving me crazy
And I will go nuts under tin roofs in rain

The shearing of hair and the scraping of chairs
And of knives against plates gives me shudders and chills
I cringe from the tearing of cardboard and paper
And tremble when bacon is sizzling on grills

The sound of a violin, trumpet or tuba
The crashing of cymbals and grind of guitars
The wail of the wind and the rolling of thunder
And rustle of leaves almost make me see stars

The crack of a whip and the hiss of a whisper
Are needles and pinpricks and ants in my brain
The cricketing crickets and chirping of birds
And a tap which is dripping will drive me insane

It's grinding gnashing and gnawing into me
The only thing helping will also undo me
For that which incites the most awful of fears
Is the feeling of anything plugging my ears

remember the touch
the sweetness of growing
a love
innocent smiles
with sensuous hints
the shiver of dawn
in the arms of illusion
a trace of the moon
in a wide open sky.

remember the magic
the wonder of knowing
a love
ingenuous laughter
increasing vibration
with quivering light
sensated collusion
the whispering kiss
the tentative sigh.

remember the ache
the power of showing
a love
forbidden affection
with public intentions
and slivering sex
in the recess of darkness
the crushing carress
with bodies entwined
and rushes of breath
in the imminent fusion
of growing a love
of knowing a love
of showing a love.

An envelope, modest, of Government Issue
Arrived in my ad-laden mailbox at last
A papercut bled through the white layers of tissue
My trembling hands opened the letter too fast

The letter inside left no margin of error
A date had been set for my time to appear
Ten fingernails gnawed by irrational terror
Ten fingertips chewed in irrational fear

Anxiety drove me to pick at my digits
And clumsily burn both my thumbs on a plate
I don't tend to be one who fusses and fidgets
But nervousness reigned as I pondered my fate

I pulled out the pushpin that fastened my letter
And doing so, pricked my poor fingertip twice
While cutting the bandage (you'd think I'd know better)
My left hand received quite a serious slice

At last I appeared for my dreaded appointment
The officer said, "Please hand over your note"
With scar-covered hands thickly slathered in ointment
I gave him the letter, containing this quote:

REGARDING your April 15th application
We have some prerequisites that must be met
To maintain your status and seek immigration
Required are fingerprints: One complete set

The moon gives me the driver's seat
and I have the wind as my co-pilot.
I dress of blackness
and the stars rest on my shoulders.
The sinister noises of the deserted places
converse with me.
I hug the night in its splendour
and I deliver myself to sleep.

Then, light is born.
I abandon the coldness
and I dive in the hot colours.
I make the rays of sun my tracks
and I feel the nature coming to life
on my fingers.
I kiss the green of the forests
and I understand, finally,
the voice of the sea.
I taste the juicy fruits
and I feed myself
of all the universe treasures
that sleep, quietly, on my tongue.

The summer flowers, rose and blue
Enjoy the warmth, the sunny hue
Sudden cold meets autumn air
The flowers bow and close their eyes
The hillsides become bare.
Where will she grow now?

A mother dead, a father gone
Two brothers blurred by their Koran
And she forgotten stumbles on
Toward a light so far withdrawn
Her frozen feet, her broken soul
Her frightened heart a gaping rent
Her little body damaged, bent
Her mind a ravaged hole.

The wind of winter rages wild
And through her skin an icy smile
Of all that she has known and seen
The love so far away and broken
Buried in the snow.

Alone, alone a child mislaid
In winter wild and mountain side
Her stomach empty, eyes blown wide
An aching for the summer side
A sickening aloneliness
Despair, destraught, decayed.
Altogether decimated
A tiny child enslaved.
How can she grow in everness?
How will she grow in winter wild?

The knight set out that morning
With armor of polished hue
Mirror like, and so it must be
Tarnished would never do

For it was gold that he was after
Dragon’s gold to be exact
And if there were chinks in his armor
He would not return intact

He checked his lance one more time
Its sharpness to ensure
And mounted his trusty stead
It was now time for war

The dragon saw him coming
From her mountaintop hide-away
And sighed a weary sigh
He was the seventh one today

She flew out to meet him
Her bulk blocked his path
His visor down, his lance at ready
The dragon soon would meet his wrath

The dragon blew a mighty blast
That scorched both trees and earth
Inside his trusty armor
The knight knew his armor’s worth

The dragon looked on with dismay
And took off in the air
It mattered not, he was after her gold
And that was in her lair

He traveled on
The sky grew dark, a fact that gave him pause
The dragon had returned
Carrying a boulder in her claws

The boulder landed square on the knight
The remains did remind
The dragon of its favorite food
Canned Knight, how divine!

She wished the knights around her
Would sort of get a life
For now she had to settle
For can opener, fork and knife

Oh how I wish to be ignorant,
beautiful and dumb.
My breasts augmented heaving twins,
my brain a tiny crumb.

To have my only worry be,
the thought of which to use;
should it be the Burberry,
to match my Jimmy Choos?

To never read old Kierkegaard,
Nitzche or C. d**kens,
but know I wont eat KFC,
'cause they are mean to chickens.

I wouldn't wear fur but leathers fine,
to attract a leading man.
To never think about genocide,
of Darfur in Sudan.

I'd trade every idea I've ever had,
to never have to wait,
for a table or in club's line,
or for a man to date.

I would wear pink designer sweats,
with 'porn star' on the butt.
I'd giggle like a little girl,
never knowing what is what.

Oh to be golden, gorgeous, vapid,
with my brain a tiny crumb.
To be ignorant and blissful,
so beautiful and dumb.

he has stockpiled his life
so it may dangle from the tip of his tongue
and he tells me
"this is ecstasy"

the skyscrapers push him
into the ground
every so often he forces out a smile
and he misses where he has never been

he wants to be
the interminable sadness
he scrapes his mind for an excuse
and tells me "this is living"

he folds into his weaknesses
he folds beneath his feet
he conceals an empire
of fear and good intentions

as he sleeps, worlds form behind his eyes
he swallows the truth
and holds it down
he tells me "this is everything"

he reminds me
he contains me
he is unaware
but he knows what he is doing

he is unaware
and tells me "this is drowning"
and i believe him
even as he breathes.

So frail
graceful
in its curves
indulgent
in its duties.
A thing of beauty
to be possessed
caressed
with only the gentlest
touch.

Crash.

The ruby vibrance on the floor
is startling
shards of the beautiful glass
swimming like minnows
glinting like the knives
they've become
in an instant.
That graceful, tapering stem
lies to the side,
jagged edges threatening
even to helpful, well-meaning hands.

*

The mutter

Of the matter

Of the knotting tongues of water

Crawls inside, past the eyes,

And makes a home within the brain

Curling in,

An keening rain

That licks at the seams

On the edges

Of dreams