Morning Chorus
Incessant bleating clawing at my dreams
heart in mouth and sharp breath sucking me awake
wrenched from hot dreams of a Northern girl
cold early morning light exposing sweat beads
My heads nights berth - simple warm hollow cradling hopes.
Taught muscles stretched like a canvas bow
Singing out for her gentle touch, yearning for sweet release
As bristles swish over white morning teeth
This ghost, her soft shape – pressing warm breasts against cool back
subtle perfume drapes my skin.
Silvery streams beats its pitter-patter on my head
Steam and heat opening me like flower unfurling
Pores drinking and me feeling her tentacles
She wraps her ethereal, lithe limbs around me
My every nerve tingling in this new mound.
Folded Lotus limbs: ancient pose of serenity
Morning mantra muttering from cherry lips
Words of deities long past and dare I say – forgotten?
Today, resound so emptily, her eyes like beacons in the void
Nirvana will not come for me.
She is in every button my quick fingers touch
Be it rustle of cloth or rasp of knotting laces
Susurration of jacket sliding over my too hard shoulders
Finally she is locked into me
Belt loop dividing body, clasp a final click.
Legs pumping me towards the train
Dawn chorus greets my every hurried beat
Scudding up to the graffiti riddled platform as long white tube screeches in
This morning girl sits with me at the window
And I see her watching me: staring out.
Yesterday’s tomorrows all become one
This torrid time machine that air conditioning forgot
Transports us along the verdant line
And as I sense the oppressive smoke stacks looming
I have no choice, I follow.
As the foul beast unceremoniously disgorges us
Charing Cross greets us with its filthy embrace
It’s scratchy, jangling voice blaring nonsense
A heady aroma of sugary pastry, coffee and greasy hen’s bounty nauseates
And I stride with purpose through this fug
Head filled with words of scruffy bards who will never know this life.
Good-morning girls greet me with early consumer gift
While smiling cheerily, their jaded eyes hark back to dreams, pillows and rest
My warm hand now cooled by gratis orange nectar
And news of a day we have already lived through with some success or other
Warming legs now pulling me through early morning streets
Filled with street sweepers, butts and pigeon shit.
As I seat my self in my corporate bench and set my screen alight
Her lovely image flashes up, little piggies in repose
Gazing at their lovely piggy reflections
Tips adorned just so.
And as I gaze upon their little heads and remember the muse above
For this lovely woman, my delighted heart does flood.
Unknown Playful
- 16 years, 5 months, 11 days ago
