Friday, June 13, 2008

Turning Down The Offer


Can I borrow your cheese?
Look, I am not made of moonlight
Blended in milk, but finely woven silk,
So you better act like a man
Walk past, and stand, next line.


Can I borrow your hairclip?
Are you acting sissy, or pseudo-
Obsessive, or whatever it is, my clip
Remains still a selfish worn-out clutch-of-knots,
And you better not, disentangle it,


Can I kiss your thumb?
Too direct, the ray of longing sprouting
From the caverns of your darkness, but
Let me tell you, or technically, re-iterate,
I, unlike, most of my generation
Believe in true love.


Can I just smile at you?
Why would you?


Can I stare at you for five more minutes?
It would be more productive, to just
Drink soda and ice, and dream about
Tight-lipped women draped in starlight
Hiding more than they reveal, telling you
To stay.

5.5.1 And Sexist Spake, Reverse.


Can I borrow your camera?
You, with your dangling dragon-rings,
Curvy grace, open lace, viper face,
You make me drool, young woman,
What if I refuse to comply with your desire
But, tell you to quiver in front of the
Flash-light eye, blink ?


Can I borrow your cigarette?
To watch you burn in the golden light
Of latesummer, is but a fantasy, trapped
In the unconscious. To be more precise,
Since the cigarette dwells in solemn half-life,
You should actually pick up a mirror
And perceive the real fading fire, and
Let me peek, if you don't mind?


Can I embrace you?
O lady in blue, the stars crave for you,
In longing high, in content : sigh.
Don't let your image dissolve, by this
Sudden moderation of ego, this hapless
Sign of kindness, O lady of the seas,
Of the abounding light carried by the flies,
Hold on to your portrait of finesse, and let
The gods weep for you.


Can I love you?
But I may betray you.


Can I say Hello after five minutes?
My heart yearns for affection, a bit more,
A bit more, but the ideal is always broken
By the grain of sand in the spotless. I would
have loved you, if I were not so inadequate
In vision, or if not for the bearer of frying-pans
Reposing in the hallways of my station.

5.5.0. Amen.

Friday, June 6, 2008


Only when you sleep
shall I kiss those deep-blue eyelids
holding more secrets
than I can keep.