Saturday, 30 October 2010



one drop

Saturday, 16 January 2010

School 1/20: Icknield Lower School

Once, i ripped a gold hoop clear out of this girl´s ear.
It sliced the part of her flesh that attached her ear to her head.
Like a pink cheese slice.

She had been bullying me in the playground for months before.
Taunting, mimicking, mocking, ridiculing.
I´d had enough.

And when she came up to my face one day
her cropped blonde wispy head
threatening my direction
i took a good look at her snot-crusted nose
and sore red upper lip
that peeled like a burns victim
her hands jutting close to my eyes
stumpy and nails bitten
down so far all that remained was a thin crescent
and fatty meat for fingers
at five years old, i made valuable realisations:

1) I didn´t care for kids who had green snot.
Mine was clear- and never on parade.
How did children manage to concoct such disgusting
gunge goo from their nasal cavity
and wander around as if it were some kind of trophy?

2) One should not continuously lick the area above one´s lip
it looked so raw and painful
that salmon pink grated skin
would never become me.

3) I would never bite away my nails in such an ugly fashion
it made me wretch.
and to this day never trusted someone with too much meat on his fingers and toes.

(now back to the confrontation)

Her scowl now making her ugly runt face even more contorted
Growing redder by the moment
fuelled by my look of disgust and pity.
Then, unable to control herself
she struck!

I´ve never been one for violence
however growing up i was always told,

´Dionne, if someone hits you, then hit them back twice as hard.
Without the teacher seeing.´

So with all my might and limited wisdom,
i shoved this urchin and her ailments away from me.

Insensed, she paused momentarily
(probably to size me up)
then charged at full speed
grabbing an easy target
(the braids that hung from my head with beads sewn to the bottom- now lamenting what a great weapon they would have made)

Disabled and unable to see now,
i swung for anything i could reach

turned out her earing was within my clutch

so i tightened my grip

and tugged


Two swolen sodden red cheeks later
and a school mob outraged at my behaviour
i was marched to see the headmistress.

*I recall hoop earings being banned from there and shortly after that incident i moved onto the second institution in my school career.*


Your dove-soft cheeks
burn with untamed embers
but i´m not sure if it´s for anger or sadness.

Your glistening khaki eyes
brimming with incomprehendable frustration
glower without the endurance to fully meet mine.

Yet somehow this manages to slice me in two.
My insides oozing out my body
into a mulchy stench.

I´m ashamed I allow you to feel this way.
My head stomps on itself to warn me
I´ll never forgive myself for this once you´re gone.

Yet i continue to retain this trembling fury
that was never allowed out
to play or otherwise.

She was instead locked behind icy glass
contained in her box
until she was sedated enough
to accept the way it was
Without question.

Slaves with consent
and disgraced.
In silence
For it´s unladylike to protest.
To ask questions.
To feel anything.

It´s not enough that you feel forever guilty
So i provoke your dove cheeks to burn
and dare your khaki eyes to emit the tears
i was never allowed to shed.
And I relish your anguish.
and somehow,
although disgusted,
I´m relieved.

The Strangers

Gentle greetings
Pleasant yet unfamiliar
the awkwardness of this
preoccupied in unbuckling a shoe.

It´s polite to remove them
It also laminates the distance between us.

Forced and strained questions
I receive gratefully.
You´re trying
I do my best to formulate a simple yet ample response.

You nod.
Did your bit.

A flushed cheek
I was caught looking too long at your face
examining the lines and hairs i´d never noticed before.

All our cracks are exposed now.
But i like it that way.

Occasionally we spread concrete filler
by sharing news about our uninteresting lives.

Uninteresting to each other as we never did
nor never will
understand what it is we do to fill time.
And how we came to be

Wet dreams

The snow
thick sludge carpet
cushions like a crispy velvet mattress.
Gradually my extremities loose the will
to keep tingling.
Instead i gasp shocking white air
inhaling first with throbbing pulse
resort to the sallow ascent.

Eggshell Teeth

His hospital walls ache with echoes.
I´ll never fill the time nor space
he has reserved in his
Twinkling abyss.
Helplessly and aimlessly i
continue to be a hinderance
to fill those polystyrene walls