Love sinks low,singing-
A duet between drowning hearts.
Her smile is the last breath before the tar closes in.
I play my guitar till the strings blisters,
Till the bubbles stop breaking the surface.
Still,the Cheshire Cat keeps playing,
Because silence is the deepest pit of all.
It was a perfect day, a sunny golden day.
I felt the gentle sweep of easy breezes,
the music of the wind.
It was my daily stroll around the neighborhood,
my daily clarity.
It was there, and then I beheld the cat,
the leashed Siamese cat, prowling and smelling.
A man clutched this leash, seeming absorbed,
seeming preoccupied by cat rubbing and sniffing,
cat prowling and surveying land and sky.
Never had I witnessed a leashed cat.
This was a way we controlled and humanized dogs.
Cats were always wilder, less human, and freer.
My usual steps brought me nearer to
the cat on a leash. The owner had his back to me,
he seemed unaware of my approach.
But Siamese cat offered me a predatory stare,
ready to pounce on my flopping shoelaces.
I knew then my shoes were doomed,
my laces would soon die.
No, I couldn’t stop laughing.
Pleasingly Plump
Obese, bloated, overwrought with contrition
Lainey hung a chart of each yoga position
Couldn’t deal with stretching
Mice she’s still fetching
She defies my lectures on nutrition
Every day seems to stop and start
With shapes and colors and God-given art
Yet I only exist within the warmth of your gaze
But for a moment to then disappear in the haze.
So I go amidst the multitudes and the commotion
I go there and witness the grand seduction
I'm but a remnant who's been ripped open
Undone, broken, remolded and woken.
Behold my muse of milk and honey
And her siamese twin who struggles within
Behold the patrons that show and tell
And all you artists that live under her spell.
O tiger tiger I now feel somewhat ill at ease
I'm stricken by some kind of strange disease
I ponder the chain that shackles my brain
And the mighty spears that brings her to tears.
Behold my muse of milk and honey
and her twin who lives for silk and money
It's gloom and doom and flowers for tomorrow
Lilies for her bedroom and roses for her sorrow.
They do the tango in the most provocative ways
Swirling their fantails
Splashes of reds and oranges
The water separates, allowing their dance
They are fierce in their enthusiasm
I hold my breath, for I am overcome
Amazed at their beauty and their strength
Excited by their sensual dance
They are warriors of the best kind
Siamese fighting fish
Insincere
fake
Siamese
sisters:
Leftist
Rightist...!
Love and poetry, inseparable siamese sisters ever
A Siamese cat with attitude was walking down Tokyo Boulevard
Horns were blowing; people were freaking out during their ride.
It’s just a kitten, one of the grandma types said to her night guard.
But he is enormous, a giant, smashing cars right and left he replied.
The cat was angry with his wife, who had run off with Santa Claus.
He was focused on his goal, which was to confront her to her face.
Cars were being smashed and bashed by his angry claws and paws.
Nothing much left for him to salvage, Siamese was in disgrace.
Oh man! Here he comes now the wife said to Santa Claus in the sleigh.
We are up here! Santa Claus yelled to Siamese Cat. Hey! Hey! Hey!
I thought that idiot said “Ho! Ho! Ho!” Siamese cat said.
Not realizing Father Christmas was man with whom wife did now play.
siamese contrast:
one is a total Leftist,
other ultra Right ...!
Fin flags shiver beside a slightly gaping mouth
Pectorals all aquiver with the body's flicker flame
To rise and fall beside the glass while neon's lights
Blue downward slantings flashed with headlight eyes
Float still against green backing weed
Twenty times the fighter twists and turns
Then briefly all shimmy shivers cease
for just an interlude of perfect still
Floating like a slowly sinking leaf
All peace until the fins and waving trims again begin
All day until the night until turning off the fish tank light
Though dribble drip's trickle sound continues
Through the dark into each day's return
With Siamese still searching
Still looking into mankind's world
For signals from a fish to fight
Keeping it to yourself,
while giving it away
Only poetry is split,
and structured this way
Keeping it to yourself,
then passing the torch
A deft oxymoron,
as light is re-sourced
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
E-arly February thirteenth,
L-ight and warmth have met;
L-et Monday morn set things aright,
A-llow it to leave the fret.
G-ray clouds don't gather,
A-s they clear the skies;
S-hadows have disappeared,
G-reat day thrills your eyes.
A-llow the dawn to break, as the new day begins;
S-unrise has just bathed the sweet Siamese twins.
***** THE SIAMESE TWIN *****
"Womb to tomb" so is our fate
On a day with no date
Meaningless is one without its mate
Both occur once in this state
Their company; sweet sorrows
On the hands of time they are arrows
"Tomb to womb" so is our next gate
Opening to immortality estate
Meets the Judge to rate
Both our deeds and omissions of late
SIAMESE TWIN
By Joel Thornton may 2015
Insentient
Insidious/deplorable
The fecal sediment settles to my sentiment
The sewages now inseparable.
An inability to act
Apathetic and indifferent
Pathetically react
Meaningless and unaware.
Now incapable of disjoining
Fused, spliced to the core.
Combining
Convergence
The gore, the urgency.
The horrible timing
The irony, how unfair.
Siamese twin pears 'pon the pear tree
Soaking up autumn's sun
Soon their time to cling will be gone
Frost will touch rose and be done
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