Marshmallow

Toothpick by toothpick,
Picked and Picked.
Cuspate from this end to that.
Like my body was a sponge.
Absorbing every tear like gelatin syrup.
Lachrymose into pale colour.

Pleasing the child of tantrum.
The Christmas decorator in tinsel time.
A bag of punching temper.
So the heat melts me into,
Gooey liquid like crow shit.
Then baked with flattery,
Inflating my ego.
Again they feed on me.


With intricate care I was made?
Or just for the clown show.
Bones and hide,
And a pinch of fear put into preparation.
Served on a plate to hungry dears.
Golden goblets with maudlin poured.

Pitcher filled with dreams of mothers.
Spongy Side.
Edge soft.
Stretchy stand.
Elastic cast.

Fortunate cake, whose toppings last.
Pretty, pretty.
Born from the swampy dumps.

Marshmallow.
Occasional.
Festive.
Twisted.
Strained.
Pained.
Colour of your mood.
There is nothing new,
Nothing 'own'...
In the marshmallow.


Decked up marshmallow.

Listening to Silence

On a bed of brown,
Enveloped by the graceful greens,
Truth that lies,
Like a mother’s warm lap.
Sleep sets in.

Muttering like a lullaby,
The beautiful mid-noon breeze,
Cooling my forehead,
Thoughts of tomorrow are lost finding me.
Worries of yesterday don’t haunt me.
Searching despair, hope suddenly greets.
Content I donate breath,
To liven a dead belief.

I’m forgetting foes,
I’m forgiving my dreams,
I’m competing against time,
I’m winning.

It is so utterly beautiful,
A rendezvous with my spirit.

What does it mean to die and decay,
If not this?
Listening to silence,
Finally peace.