(no subject)

[moonflower77]

these poems are found at the back of "through the eyes of aliens". there is an air of simplicity and delicacy about them i really appreciated. many so-called healthy people are unable to feel as happy about themselves as she does. 

 

Casey

 

As autumn winds toss trees,

I roll from bed to smile at

my wee rust and black-striped friend,

rescued from a car-worn street,

Body bent into a question-mark,

Casey munches on a leaf of mustard,

typewriter neat,

My curious fuzzy fellow

hurries up his twig,

waves his upper body in the air,

sets tiny sticky feet onto my offered finger,

marches nimbly up my thigh,

pushing his head into a trouser fold,

he shyly coils into a ball,

I gently tumble him back into his jar home,

He rests beneath his greenery

to gather energy for his important spin,

When caterpillar fuzz will turn into silken wings.

 

it was moving and made me smile at the vivid image of a mute autistic woman gently handling a caterpillar and waiting with quiet excitement for it to transform into a moth.

 

Jasmine

 

Little jasmine bloom

Wind-tossed to me

Nestled on my cheek

Wet with rain,

Over the mountain comes thunder,

A breeze no stronger than you

Whisks you suddenly away again.

 

Rain

 

He said ‘I am the rain’.

I ran to him

through wet reeds,

cat-o-nine tails rapping my shins,

The water droplets sang

as we grew together to stand

before the sun.

 

Samurai Widow

 

Heaven spurned

millions, millions of snowdrop tears

blooming on his shining cloak

slumped in a pile

with his crest of a dragon’s head,

No son to press it

against his cheeks and let

the dragon lick his tears,

Widow walks like a statue

A windy palace all her own,

She stepstepsteps barefoot,

orders the maids away,

Her hair

unshackled in silken sheaves

like dragon’s mane.

 

The waiting maid’s song

a lonely thrush,

Widow kneels in dim Shinto light,

shadows creep, dart, snake,

glint off steel,

One flash,

No tears,

Widow’s final note is silence,

Her dagger through her throat,

Maid’s song fades into bamboo whisper,

Yards and yards of snowdrop silk

Crumple and turn scarlet

 

Tango

 

A scent of lily-of-the-valley

on a current of musical air,

he turns his angled chin,

brown velvet eyes

curl their wings around her

 

Lone woman folded,

at her table,

lithe figure hugged in jade silk,

solitary shepherd of lost wishes,

She, so lovely that stars gasp in their orbits,

The world is born and dies in her.

She crosses legs of elegance,

clutches dainty hands together,

Shadows skip across her bare back

bolted straight with shyness

 

He hears the rustle of jade silk

louder than the beat of jazz,

He brushes unseen dust from his pinstripes,

steps softly to her,

she lifts gold-nugget eyes,

her hand rests in his palm

 

They swirl away to a tango,

his skin sighing at her closeness,

He wonders if she can see

the loneliness,

asks himself if she can know

that his penthouse is too vast for him alone.

The way her body molds to him

tells him she thinks he’s handsome,

with gentleman’s grace,

fingertips on her petite back,

he guides her round the dance floor,

already breathing with her

Eyes closed in rhythm

he whispers in her ear,

she answers,

her breath a breeze of peppermint,

his chin brushes her brow,

damn with flushed joy

 

Her heartbeat bounds at his infant-soft touch,

- Maybe, maybe he is for me,

He smiles

at how perfect is her tiny hand in his,

- Maybe, maybe she is for me.

 

For Dr. R.

 

When you look at me

with sea-pale eyes,

my pain sails away,

when you’re not watching

I peek your way,

My snow-bearded friend,

I love you.

I, snug in a ball

in your arms rocking me,

I cann you Daddy in dreams,

Wonderful creative healer,

Thoughts always tickled by your face

and your soft murmurs,

My mornings with you

are like treasures like rosy seashells,

you help unlock my big love

bursting me,

you love me as I am,

in my own stained glass world

 

For an Autistic Child (foreword to "Through the eyes of aliens")

 

To you in your world,

Locked inside yourself,

An island,

Isolated winds in your mind,

To you, locked inside beauty,

Inside anguish, inside joy,

You live

Breathe

Die

Emotions

too profound to understand,

Little one curled up rocking,

Your floor your world,

Safe

Just you,

Your little expressive hands,

Like tiny birds,

talking in flutters,

your little angry snarls

repel a monstrous outside realm,

your beloved treasures:

Buttons

Diminutive faery animals

Smooth wooden beads

Dots of sunlight on your wall

Humming your songs

to calm your anxious hands,

Safe,

Just you,

At one with rhythm,

Your world

only bits of those others

who come and go like currents of air,

barely ruffling your forelock,

Your face a delicate empty mask

to those who see only with eyes,

Those who don’t understand

your world,

To me,

watching you,

I see myself,

I sing songs for you,

little one, to tell you

You don’t have to forsake your world to be free.
 

HOME

 

A child encapsulated

 

(afterword to "Through the eyes of aliens")

 

Her inner world of music,

sensations luscious honey

spicy-rich-warm cinnamon,

a sanctuary of soft movements.

                Rocking body,

                fingers floating before deep eyes,

                feet wandering soothing circles,

Serene in autistic quiet,

Serene eyes,

Serene hands,

Happy

Living in her simple coloured box,

Her blown-glass world,

Home

Self-enclosed dream child,

Toe-steps her own exotic rhythm,     

She shields the egg of her universe

with wide wings.