For the month of April/poetry.......

i shall put an april fool's work up as soon as i can

(wrote this one year ago, yesterday)




My desire's a rabbit
in the presence of man
laying perfectly still
through blood-pounding channels

and when all becomes quiet
it leaps from its den
it croaks under moonlight
and washes it's hands

and when daylight returns
resolved to the warren
it trades in its wonder
for the earth and the ground

The sun pops out for a while,
A ton of flowers arise in style.
The rain falls down so often,
A puddle is inevitable to step in.
The grass is a lush green,
Soon be time for the sun screen.

Time to remember a story,
About death and glory.
A story of new begining,
And the start of a festive occasion.
His hands stung by nails,
As our belief sails.

Hugging our family,
Drinking cold drinks easily.
Listening in on the rain,
whilst we remember his pain.
The sun shines a new life,
In the season and our thoughts.

The month is april,
The rain begins to fall,
The month is april,
The sun begins to shine.
The month is april,
Hopefully i'm a sleep the first day

glory be he sees so sleeping
me upon a red night fair
the renaissance
the latent want
to rest upon
his gait
await
his return home
my welcoming
where i've laid down
a path of petals
lit up candlewaxed wicks flicker
toes and tied up trippings
tango toward oblivion's cool blissings

he is tired, it is true
for all the days work done and finished
knowing pleasing, be pleased he
my admiration
his fine care

for life's too short
and when it's over
pride we take in all so rested?
not, but so in loving well
reciprocates itself so sixfold
smiles upon our crusty shells

red were mine eyes,
despair daggered my heart,
alone, caught freezing alone,
as the lightning cast light upon the truth that is shame,
all that is sacred is no longer,
and all that is wonder is gone.

and yet the cold rain,
pelting, soaking, waking me to confront myself,
slapping me, freezing my skin,
prompting me to take cover,
to start over,
to dispell the shame, dismiss her name and go on.

i'm not yet ready for the sun and moon
to shine in my corner of this cold space,
it is mine and mine alone,
and only the rain is welcome,
for rain is my only friend,
and shame is my only enemy.

Kebab man
stuck in a traffic jam
trailing your kebab van
when you pitch up on the corner
and heat up the gas for the lamb
and sit in your box
with the meat turning
and the chilis and red cabbage sitting in trays
would you say it's nicer these days
in April
when it's not dark till about eight
and you don't have to rely on the stove for heat
and can sit out on the pavement
with your tea towel over your shoulder
talking to pretty women no longer in winter clothes?
Does that cherry blossom stick to your van
when it falls in a shower?
Do daytime drinkers come and glower
after their days drinking on the river?
Is this your first April ever
since you came over?
How's April kebabbin' in Cambridge?
Good? Yes?
Yes?
Good.
Kebab man
Kebab man
Look, the traffic jam's movin';
you'll soon be doner meat carving.

baby rabbits under trees
and in cats meowths
scream just like children
knowing their bones and blood elude them
soon and very soon

lord i want to be like jesus
in my heart, in my heart

but i can't
for i am not the son of man

hold the door for me at least
and i'll blindly
puppet master
submit to slaughter

day in and day out
i'll submit

and tiptoe round your eggshell landmine

oh god

what's he going to say this time?


and oh god why


did
i
care?