Sunday, 09 November 2008

• for Imad

  (that's me!) I asked Toni how she'd feel if I shared this. She said she'd be comfortable with my decision either way, but that this is now one of her favourites and that she'd like to perform it. So I post it.
  
  

  for Imad 
  

  it is the uncertainty,

  he said. 
  

  it is the autumn,

  she thinks

  ...green leaves turn brittle brown

  through shades of ochre, orange and fear

  4 o'clock darkness pulls

  mists of unspoken words from mute mouths 
  

  and hearts

  rattle

  inside seemingly empty

  bodies rattling

  inside seemingly bursting train carriages

  empty of happiness and hope 
  

  it is the uncertainty,

  he said. 
  

  it is the autumn,

  she thinks

  ...green leaves turn brittle brown

  through shades of ochre, orange and fear

  river's wind rustles

  the forgotten within 
  

  and a heart rattles inside your sunken skeleton

  your

  sculptured silhouette

  breaks free

  its nude screams

  pierce through

  makeshift masterpieces

  that turned your purple music banal 
  

  and as those voices fall to silence

  their sound turns to ash

  a waste of passion, black

  like onyx

  that now lines your insides.

  the absurd

  makes you

  wild 
   
  

  it is the autumn,

  she thinks. 
  

  come walk with me through this cold November grey

  along the Southbank of our lives

  and let the dusk mist

  settle on the winter of our unknowing souls 
  

  it is the uncertainty,

  he said.

  I know, she smiles,

  I know. 
  

                    -Toni Stuart, October

  
  
  

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