Friday, June 28, 2013

Leilanie Stewart

A FARADAY CAGE WILL KEEP YOU SAFE

I do not wish to be
yet another rivet
painted into the cast iron girders
sealed for eternity
in a rusty, decrepit
railway fence

The train goes nowhere
but it is better to be on it
than a sleeper under it,
than a fence beside it

Look out the windows
along the way
The journey
is all that matters

THOU DOST PROTEST TOO MUCH

Scoot over
for the corrugated iron roof
will ultimately fall

See those pigeons?
One-two-three-four
eating their fill-
it will not crash onto them
they will eat, oblivious

Nobody is immune
this is a disaster
that is imminent,
a concrete tsunami
that we may or may not
be able to surf

Prepare yourself
for when the tide turns
people will scatter,
flee in all directions
and what will you do?

Freeze?
Stand and stare?
Self preservation
is of utmost importance

LIFE IS A-CHANGING

The schoolboys
don’t stink of alcohol
they are not the ones
to be feared
they are decoys
detracting
from the bum
on the street
who staggers
and stinks
of carly specials

This is not
the kind of place
where you’d want
to fall, knowing
that passersby
would pass you by

You are alone
in a scary world,
little child,
so keep your wits
intact

LONG HAUL

And now
I have a dead left leg
and my belly hurts
and my eyes sting
at the sight
of the see-through knickers
on the line

they’re made of net,
what a catch!

Isn’t this prison existence wonderful?

SHOW, NOT TELL

This
grey matter
this ball
of squishy,
squashy,
saturated fat
is oversaturated
with puss and shit

This
sat-upon
oversaturated
shit
holds so much
squishy, squashy
purity,
but the masses
wouldn’t comprehend

Misanthropy
it ain’t
for if there weren’t sheep
the beauty of the shepherd
and the devilry of the wolves
couldn’t be appreciated

There hangs
the golden sheep
taunting us so readily
but they are unequipped
with a long enough rod
to reach it

Wield your shepherd’s staff!
All you abysmal sheep.
Reach the damn fleece
that you can’t see hanging
before your eyes
because of all the glinting gold

What you didn’t know
is that the fleece already fell,
cloaking your head
with a suffocating blanket

The blanket
ain’t made of wool-
it’s polyester,
ha ha!

I warned you
it was filled with puss and shit,
let me remind you-
the grey matter

The grey matter
has been skull-fucked
into a thousand fragments
of anterior cortex,
right hemisphere,
left hemisphere,
leaving only the reptilian brain

A reptilian brain
ain’t no good
in the skull of a ram
oozing rotting flesh

RIPE FRUIT

Will I ever grow up?
The vine says no
Which vine?
Not the grape vine-
the vine with spreading lianas
the vine delving into
the depths of a slumbering
consciousness

Why bother growing up?
When the acrid clouds are waiting…

It is better to stay
young and unplucked
free of herbicide,
free of pesticide,

hanging on the vine.

© Leilanie Stewart 2013

Leilanie Stewart is one half of a writing couple - the other half is Joseph Robert. By day she runs a creative writing workshop for teenagers and by night she publishes her writing in print and online magazines in the US and UK, as well as reading her work at spoken word events. Her writing blog is at www.leilaniestewart.wordpress.com

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