From the Pen of a Stalker

You beautiful woman, you.

Such is your beauty, your countenance, your shy demeanour
That brings admirers from near and afar.
Men of such persuasion and will, casting a glow upon my pallid person
That I can never hope to compete with.
You sashay down the street and all I can do is follow you with my eyes
Till you turn the corner and vanish, leaving in your wake a trail of perfume
So heady it makes the blood rush to my head
And I stumble forward blindly, clutching at the silken wisps of your hair
That are now far beyond my reach.

Yet as I lay on the ground and see your fine form fade into the distance
I am filled with the terror of one facing loss
Like he who finds himself in a desert with no water for miles around.
This thirst must be quenched, by you and only you.
I want you.
I need you.
I must have you.
And I will do anything to get you.

I watch you stroll down the promenade,
your back turned to me,
But I still know it is you.
I know you from the way your bag rubs against your hip
And the way that little tendril of hair curls around the lobe of your ear.
Even in the shade of dark glasses I know your piercing gaze seeks me
Because you need me too.
Just as you need all the men who swoon as you pass them by.
You need to know you are wanted and worshipped
So your colossal ego, one that belies your petite frame
Is kept well fed and satisfied.

You think you are the Mistress of us all
Yet you are nothing but a slave, just like we all are
To your own blinding beauty.
A female Narcissus in love with herself
Who wants to be loved by men as well
And who wants to hear the jingle of cash,
And see the glitter of diamonds
And feel the swish of the silks that they all take turns presenting
So you would choose them.
Yet all these are merely aperitifs for your pride;
You just want more and more, as much as we are willing to give
To attain you.

Ha! You're nothing but a trinket up for a never-ending auction
To be sold to the highest bidder.
Only, the whole Universe wants you and the stakes will keep getting higher
And you'll remain for the rest of your life on the auctioneer's table
Listening to the gavel fall, and fall, and fall again.

You shameless whore, don't you realise
You're just condemned to walk the streets for the rest of your life
With us all yapping at your feet
Like dogs behind a coveted piece of meat?

But what else do you expect?
You are after all, Perfection.
Forever desired but ever unattainable
Just as enslaved by us as we are by you.

Joe

Evening arrived and Joe sighed.
This was his job
Filled, drunk, wiped and refilled,
By the peg and the tankard.
The dank smell of muddy boot-prints
Alongside lager and whiskey and rum.
It was all he’d ever known.

Then, in the haze of beer-bellies and barley-breath,
He saw her at the bar.

She was beautiful; her face framed by tangled auburn curls
That she kept clearing away from her eyes.
Oh those eyes.
Brown? Grey? He wasn’t sure;
But he knew they didn’t belong to this place
With its woebegone patrons -
Wife-beaters, loafers and loan defaulters.

This angel was not one of them.

Then those heavenly eyes let loose a torrent of tears.
A pain shot through his heart
And the whole world stood still while she wept.
Then she dried her tears with the back of her lovely hand:
It came away blackened by her mascara.
She spoke in a voice that was stronger than she looked:
“A pint of your finest whiskey, barkeeper.
Neat, and no ice.”

He ached for her. He wanted to dry her tears…

Then, to his delight, he was summoned
To be her savior.
He took her whiskey to her.
She looked at him and her face crumpled.
“Don’t cry,” he implored, “for I might break.”
But she didn’t hear him.

As her tears spilled onto the whiskey, he couldn’t take anymore.
He shattered in front of her.

She screamed and clawed at her eyes
They were now weeping not tears, but blood.
All around her there were startled cries
One man grabbed a broom, another a washcloth.

And another called a hospital.

It was too late; those eyes would no longer see.
And no one else would see them either
Or wipe the tears that would fall again, and again.

If only poor Joe had known.
But how could he?
He was just a whiskey glass.

quatrain #1

Been there, done that.
And what did I find?
No price is too fat
For an unchained mind.

Waiting

You are never there
When I need you the most
You have the time for others
But not for me
You never make the trip
When you so easily could.

I call out everyday
Beseeching you to come
And take me away
Yet you turn a deaf ear
Never looking back
If only you would.

I am a wreck
Driven to madness
I need you right now
To absorb my troubles
Swallow my sorrows
Its about time you came.

My eyes are getting heavy
My lips are smiling
But my heart is in shreds
Helpless paralysis
Take me away
And I'll take the blame.

Show me some mercy
Come wrap me in your arms
Lead me unto salvation
That I may never regret
Leaving this wretched life
For another sphere.

Cobbled roads I will gladly walk
Climb a thousand mountains
Sleep on a bed of thorns
Anything it takes
I'll go with you
Wish you were here.

I am lying in wait
Hoping you'll understand
That I want you to come
But I have not the courage
To beg you aloud
To take me away.

For I share you with others
Though I am yours alone
You are my secret lover
Yet you take others as well
Make me your chosen one
Tonight, I pray.

Take me away
Down the raging river
To the land of no return
Keep me with you.
Knock on my door
And I'll let you inside.

Listen to this heartfelt plea
I have cried a thousand oceans
Now burning in this endless desert
Gladly take me
As I take you.
O Death, make me thy bride.

Says The Tiger's Mistress

Hush thee, O Stranger
When you trespass
My Tiger's territory
Pray do not wake Him.

For He hunts in the storms
For those He loves
While thunder clashes
And trees split asunder.

I am his keeper
His guardian angel
Watching over Him
Awake while He sleeps.

Leave him to his slumber
For I want Him to dream
Undisturbed, of happy things
For my heart is His.

It's Raining

It's raining.

Lashing down upon the shutters
As if trying to force its way
Into my sheltered life.
What fury with which it patters
And rattles through the day,
Each drop like a liquid knife.

It's raining.

Obscuring the morning sun
Quenching, yet drowning
So divine and so gory.
Love and Hate become one
A violence so serene,
Entwining with the morning glory.

It's raining.

I put out my hand
Feel ecstasy in every sting
Both shackled and carefree.
A Candle or a firebrand?
Both and yet nothing,
A paradox overpowering me.

It's raining.

I step into the hail
Of liquid bullet kisses
Wounding my face.
My vision starts to fail
And I know that this is
Life and Death in one embrace.

It's raining.