Monday, 4 January 2016

Quench the Fires of Infidelity






































“Seated Female Nude” by Pablo Picasso (1905)


Flourish from the blood showered soils
A flower to twist and turn the browning edges of crumbling leaves
Crunchy under distressed fingers
Paint with the slime a confession on slanted foreheads at forty-five degree angles
Nails to hammer holes into spines of green veneer
Branches
In different dimensions, a star is dying  
In different directions the gardener screams for release, and rain
The burden of bending backs and dry hands to cup faces weathered
By suns and sins
Rejoice the juice of infidelity

A spouse and a prostitute
Sprout from the soil a scandal from which the protagonist can neither hide, nor surrender
Pride is injustice  
And the smirk on the familiar face is only the start to something more vicious
And venomous
Exploit of the snake’s old skin
A glove
For dirty hands and dirty thoughts
Burry the shovel
Catch the residue of dark humour in frying pans of blood
As oil

Wait patiently while the flags of surrender are still being sewn in those factories and farms
A chicken is blowing off steam
Blow the wind
Stress is the baggage that comes with healthy eating
The body is a bitch to satisfy
And the bitch is back at it again to slap you in the face
A restraining order
To tame the beast
Inside
The beautiful flower will still blossom in spite of the conflict 
A birth isn't easily killed