Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

I Am The Mouse

When the night sinks in scaled revolt
and meteors have hung themselves
to scatter light on both our faults,
your yellow walls, your bracket shelves,
my hunger and my loneliness,

my skull, its rain-thin tenderness;
I am the mouse and I have come
for my crumbs
as I always do;
back to you

from the drainpipe and the rooftile waltz,
the plastering, the wooden grooves
behind the cupboard, then the salt,
the pepper, cumin, thyme and cloves,
your nutmeg smells of turquoise,
your cardamom of love

and I am there
in the spice and the sting of the air,
as I always was,
waiting for the buzz,
this time on a Thursday…

for the moment of mixing, the result,
the mystery of Cenozoic myrrh,
the thorns and the full circle of the cult –
the echo of the whispers of forever
when the snap
of your trap
makes my vertebrae shiver,

I’ll be what I always was.
Be what you always were.
 
 
Robert de Born is a poet, folksinger and self-proclaimed cat-whisperer who lives in Sheffield. He has performed at the Newfound and Beacons Festivals and has work in Pankhearst’s forthcoming (late 2014) No Love Lost anthology.

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Categories: Poetry

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3 replies

  1. One of the best pieces I’ve read in weeks!! This is fantastic!

Trackbacks

  1. New poem, life and opinions of Robert de Born | The misspent youth of Robert De Born

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