Jewaira's Boudoir

Is January a time

Or a place

Or a situation

When fertilized seeds

Send shoots in the soft brown earth

And seek life?

—

Is February a time

To declare love?

To be brave?

To be true to oneself?

—

Is March a time

When winds howl?

When you decided to leave?

When conscious becomes heavy?

—

Is April a time

Of love?

Of sorrow?

Of recovery?

—

Is May a time

To leave?

To die?

To depart without saying goodbye?

—

Is June a time

To be born?

To seek light?

To find passion?

—

Is July a time

For dark eclipses?

For garish sunlight?

For Mars square Venus?

—

Is August a time

When there was no more time?

When endings were near?

When beginnings were ill-fated?

—

Is September a time

For reunions?

For rehabilitation?

For remorse?

For reflection?

—

Is October a time

Of  healing old wounds?

Of seeking to make amends?

Of building a halo around

Your head?

—

Is November a time

To betray your self?

To forsake righteousness?

To raise the white flag of hopelessness?

—

And December?

Is it a time

to forget transgressions?

to solder love?

and to sift seeds of tranquility through

parting fingers?

—

Peaceful Annum

I am a lonely anteater

moping about

in a slovenly sway,

searching,

thrusting my snout

deep into the  crevices

on my solo way,

pining

for your cuddly caresses

and your clumsy

kisses,

wistful half-smiles

at your

jokey wishes.

You’re gone

that’s it,

banished the mood

and like an anteater

starving for food

I gobble up crumbs

of love

you left along the way

and head back to

the stern

where we stood

that fine day

seeking union

finding freedom

and a comfy place

to bury my

muzzle.

My furry Captain

it’s no puzzle:

Your lonely anteater

misses you

and that’s the trouble.

Love knows no boundaries

no space in time,

Grey inches of snow

Speeding through space at the speed of light cherry red

Pink gums solid hopeful sinful

Creamy mocha skin

Trying to catch some eezzee zees

Pigeons flying about in the desert.. homeless

Homeless

why don’t you work woman

Black,

Inferior sage,

Tokyo girl,

Magic mountain queues,

Ramses the second,

Turkish coffee,

Long lashes Turkish delight

Soft

Chabdat al faras

Debate on communist Russia,

You think you know everything don’t you when you’re 18..

Take a dope take a drop take a droio ket ne drio ket ne gi diwb ket ne skeeo fakkk ubti tge rabuut gike

Take a drop take a drop let me fall into the rabbit hole,

Search for fair white clouds

Dive into bright blue skies,

And don’t you feel like a fool reading this…

On the pier

There is  a white gate

Tan skin

We wait

Golden hair

Golden eyes.

The ball is being kicked from room to room it bounces off walls in unison

I scream but the world doesn’t stop.

I holler in silence

But no one is by

no one

Says I hear you

No one stops,

The louder I scream the more aloof

Everyone is,

Help me

Help me mistress aida and the 3 wolves

Is, are coming

Walking down the path

Wolves golden eyes

and white fangs snarling

Wolfies

You love me don’t you..

Oh god am tired I need a shot,

Put me down in a white bed

A floral bed or a bed of mint

So that I can breathe,

How cruel

She frowns that girl without creases they disappear

They become like little insect trails on her face

The trails of years of torment many years of struggling to understand

And then understanding when it is too late to make amends.

I sit here hot water bottle across my chest floating into nothing,

Floating into many things

Floating into being

Once again

But with whom I don’t know.

Why do I need this importance..

Why do I need to prove  green is beautiful..

Green is bubbles

And full of buoyancy

Ha ha, ho ho

No beyonce.

There is no you there is only me

I am like the 9 limbed octopus

Odd

Shy

Clingy

Reclusive

But once you

Know me

I never let you go,

Suck you suffocate you into my tentacles

There is no release or respite from the harsh truth is there?

Oh why do people lie…

And why do people think they know or pretend to know…

Don’t make assumptions,

You had better not make assumptions

Or take advantage of my weakness,

Oh god where are you why don’t you make me well

Am I slipping away again? Hands

Fingers

Slippery on the rungs of that ladder

Scraping against the rim of that lifeboat

Oh god help me

Am I a hypocrite…..

to hell with me and my pain

To hell with anything I feel

It will be over soon

It shall be over in no time,

They prevail over us

Always.

Am tired.

The sound of rain

Shsshsshshshhshsshs

Against the wet wheels of cars

Street lights shimmer

I dance

But only in spirit

I see you in the black taxi

Hand on your cheek

Black eyes pensive

You feel the humid

Pellets

Against your skin

Although the window is shut

In the cab

And you are suffocating now

I need air you scream

And the cab driver screeches to a halt and

Gives you a look of disgust

Get the fuck out of my cab

Now

And nothing seems better at this moment than to walk

Barefoot

In the rain

Toes skimming the surface of wet pavement

Coat unbuttoned

Peeled off

And slowly mops up the rain

The meters behind you and it getting larger

And then the shirt

Just a cotton shirt

Or was it a burgundy silk one?

I forgot

But you unbuttoned it

And left a trail along the street pavement

Just you

In your camisole

And your trousers

You stop in front of the dark man with thick lips

And you ask him to

Remove your trousers

He takes the long scissors from your weak pale hands

And makes rapid slits up the front of your trouser legs

The tip of the scissors makes a slight red gash on the thickest part of your left thigh and he stops

Looks at you and continues to cut them off

The trousers that is

And you are slowly finding release

As you trample through shiny streets

Under quickening rain

That leaves iridescent trails along the front of your chest

And your exposed arms

The woman in front of you has ginger hair

She stops

The color is like ginger cotton candy

She doesn’t smile but rips off your bodice

God she looks like Elizabeth

Am I ?

No, no just go on

And I look down and see that I am naked but formless

Unclothed

But asexual

Flat

Neither woman

Nor man

Just a being

Of sorts

Floating through time

Elizabeth kisses me but how I don’t know do I have lips?

Can I feel?

There I go passing through her now

Gaining speed in my unclothed body

I am running down streets

At the speed of light

Making zig zags

Making monstrous circles around

People who walk with heads bowed

People who don’t see me

People who don’t understand me

I get into the black taxi and sit next to….

Where will this disease take me

How will I find my way back if I lose my clothing

My sense of direction

I can only go forward

I get into a black cab

And sit next to Fusha or is it Misha

One of them and the girl has a blonde pony tail in the middle of the top of her head

And just looks

She knows about you and why you left and just sits beside me

And holds my hand

I cannot sleep

I cannot sob

I cannot think

Only go forward

My only way out is the black taxi

Who can make turns

Who can go back

Who can take me back

Who can bring me back

But I don’t want to

There they go again

Misha, Fusha whispering in their high pitched voices again

Turning on lights

Making noise

When I need silence

I need to absorb

And reconnect

I can think?

The link has been severed now

There is no connection to the others is there?

I am there

A spacesuit

Floating in the inky expanse of space

Left to roam

Although I am without will

Without direction

And without control

All contact has been severed now

The spacesuit succumbs to resignation

To thinking about

Times when love was active

So fiery

It almost consumed itself

But the fireman

The jolly fireman

Came with his big red extinguisher

And put it out

Once and for all

Once and for all

Hell is when you cannot sleep

Eternal purgatory is when your soul knows no

Rest

But continuous discomfort

Everlasting pain

And lack of direction

Floating

And no one calls your name.