Tag Archives: Feet

Hush

Words strangle my throat; I try

Three thousand ways to

Come crawling to your bare feet

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Ralf

I take a turn, my feet pace

To a double beat

Down dreary street

I’m clipped of all good fortune

My lip is blue, broken

From the devil’s punch

Blood-winced, I wail,

Like a big-mouthed lion with a repressed paw

I take a turn, my head raw

Up to my latched room

Where I subsist

In pallor

 

©2014.alittlebirdtweets.

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5am

A mirage of a spider scales your bare back,

Peroxide bursts your plastic skin,

You cling inside a curtain, among wet tiles;

Where lime mould bleeds from bruised grout.

Mould fed the flies, now stuck in time; immobile on the ceiling from summer’s decline.

Crimson water spirals,

Drags your feet into the plug of black oblivion,

You scream to be free,

Scream not to repeat,

Repeat not; until your feet are safely entwined upon the seashell towelling bathmat.

Your mind dissipates like a phantom, like condensation,

Exhaled on a broken mirror,

You wipe your breath clear, you mutter vaguely,

Did I lock the door?

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Fragility

Petals, a million shades of rose, lay frozen-in-time, upon the cemetery’s frost-laden grounds. Tomorrow, heartless feet will crush them; turn them into russet particles. Their dying breath will emit rancid vapours into the air, as they succumb to the earth. And, beyond the borders of the cemetery, people will look to the skies; sing the lyrics of summers’ song. Smiling faces, embracing sunlight; unaware that decay is a fraction away.

©2013.alittlebirdtweets

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Frozen

White light dapples the snow through the trees. Winter’s breeze blows at flakes rested on branches, forcing them to chute to the ground like dancing angels. She rests on a bench; allows the winter sun to warm her face. She imagines that she’s sitting in a Christmas card scene; that everything is picture-perfect. But the woolly jumper that she wears makes her skin sweat and itch. She feels uncomfortable and disorientated. She gets up, walks; and decides that today she’ll smile at no one; and that she’ll keep her eyes fixed on frozen paths, which threaten to swipe her feet.

©2013.alittlebirdtweets

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Poetry and Prose

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