Argyle

Ashen faced;
her soul now weaved into moments of loss and
despair. Coloured by grief-stricken
tears; death is her loom.

The threads of her forgotten self
knitted back; now shabby coat, shag-piled and
broken.

Philosophy

Aren't we all things to consider?
Thoraxial thoughts of sounds
ungiven reach out
like progeny we propagate.

Minutes pass by like children
to our past. We:
dying dead in dust, dread and time.

Lip Balm

Blossom-light; the balm
caresses lips. Silently;
peachy, soft. Attractive.

The Interview Haiku

Gentle; the lady splits
legs open, wafting breezy
succulent jasmine.

Eyes, eyelashed in light;
desparation secured on
high heels quivering.

Middle parted; her
tensions farted into "Please",
"Happy to meet you's".

Hair shouldered in silk
expensively coutured coyly,
her pleas plot plunder.

Tomatoes

Golden delicious;
your in-betweens best tasted
mouth-hungry, mouth full.

Peaches

Grab the butt of you,
your sweetness I engage
in blushes pink.

Oranges

Illness is your dark
stain; of taste sour quivered:
vomiting diarrhoea.

Broccoli

All love to give is
yours; if you can disappear
and leave life and places.

To Home

When I look at you;

I think of home.

Memories of twiste surf

and splashing cliffs.

Black rocks mottled with grey

splashes of organic paint.

Soot soul driven

by winds and hurricane.

Driving home in darkness.

Hot lemonade summers;

red with raspberries and cream.

What a lovely dream

it is to look at you.

 

When I think of you;

I look at home.

Coconut coloured eyes,

eyelashes lifting

and drooping

with shy.

Nude pink hills; your hips are

mountains I climb with fingered wishes,

and flowered lilac kisses.

When you smile secret ideas

lift with the lines your glasses

created.

End pecked on your nose

Chocolate threads your hair is knitted;

entertained by your wit.

 

When I look at home; I look at you.

I am there again.

With you.

Fading into Blue

She: she I see; woman standing in a sunset.
As she stands, I am enamoured.
As enamoured as she is glamoured.
Lines of divides of spiderwebs; her hair
framing her picture in a stop-still
fraction of time.
Warm electric fires of blue are her sunset mascara.
Lips so blue
Eyes so blue
Egg stained, passions written and marked.
Where will she go?
Where will you go from here?
Captured.
She: she I see
Mirrored by my attentions,
Lost and jailed by my affections;
Alone.
Hair midnighted, hair darkened:
Fading into blue.

Despair

Small and withdrawn:
the grey child.
Small child.
Humbled and hobbled.
Imploring yet thawing.
Leaking out his grey bleeding;
he is growing yet dying.
Torn in a corner,
as I observe his veins and nerve.
Struck by ash smoke
Struck by wet leaves
Nothing he believes
Nothing he cleaves
Holding empty air in hands
His demands
are all but death and dying hairs.
I am steadfast with his stares.

Wedding rings and things

Your bonds I broke
in your wedding ring.
Frightened leather; those mortal bonds
I broke;
I awoke
to find your golden blackheart
watching me,
staring as I slept;
wordless and wordhungry.
"Jump through my golden hoop."
So I can surround you,
confound and bind you.
Your electric gold formed rashes on me
Much as being in your grip
formed lashes on me.
Golden tears I wept,
golden blood I bled,
gold my sleep, gold my dreams.
Gold ring in my snout;
to wedding rings and things devout.
Until golden snares
revealed their wares.
Unaware until,
there until,
there I'm still.

Mirror

I am silver rivulets and stone,
and when I see out
and you see in;
we think of home.

I am untouchable and have no self of own.
I am just yours and my
reflections of home.

When you look into me;
my soul is black.
Although face is silver;
I have no face or back.
I show only what is shown to me.
Visions of my own I lack.

Consider

For I will consider how you make me smile
And I never get too used to it
When I consider it's been a while
As I consider your face broken across the table
Contemplating my soul
I consider it, you make me whole
I consider our connection, across linens and silvers
I consider now, at the beginning
I'm ashamed to say
I never always thought of you this way.

Siva
Shiver
Speckled dragon
Born electric
Come what may
Drink fire in china
teacups
Exhumed and eely
Lemon fucking squeezy
Canabis delights sum up
his equation
To honour borne
His inflation
Siva
Quiver
Jelly are my knees
And I say
Oh my
Speckled Dragon please
Pubescent are my dreams
of speckled dragons on speed.
 
Whore in a Crypt
 
Tight jeans and bottled dreams;
dreams like fake tan.
Earrings in brown illusion;
an end without plan.
Mirrored into submission...
Fake eyelashes tinted, glinted and flinted
by nuclearotic fission.
Casual fridays into weekdays and weekends.
Forgivings takes places,
turning to apologetic amends.
Losing friends into strangers.
Swopping adventure for dangers.
Desserts into deserts;
whore in a crypt.

For more poems please visit: www.natalie-williams.com