Redundant Twerk

As I was going to work
I could feel the breeze twerk
I could feel the shapeless shadows lurk
Then my clutch went cigarette jerk

What was that I asked
I then felt my past walked pass
Felt so real, a dark aghast
A mystical rainbow in contrast

It's alright, I told myself
It's only until twelve
Neither it's a pack nor a commonwealth
It's just a certain emotion, no need to oppress

-PRK-

Somehow, Rather

It's slightly cold tonight
Rather too quite and the ice cube isn't dissolving tonight
Even this rum isn't calming the waves down tonight
No glasses clanking tonight

What's going to happen tomorrow?
Or will there be a tomorrow?
If not, can I borrow a tomorrow?
So I can narrate tonight's story tomorrow?

When it started yesterday
Like that was the last yesterday
When they really wanted to live yesterday
To know what they were meant to breathe for yesterday

As last week was warm
Last week was a little cosy
Though last week the cottage was swarmed
Last week the reverence itself was rather a posey

But this is now
This is where I empty a glass of rum
And then I'll take a bow
And craft a story of a rebel scum

-PRK-

That Arranged Marriage

It's all Greek to me in its infancy
Letting nature take its course; a date with destiny
Damned if I do, damned if I don't
In a den of iniquity; halfway decent and be damned on my own
And my drunkenness diluted in foreign liquors
My scruples thawed alongside such rigours
A command performance so peculiar
Cruising for a bruising in the whole hemisphere
For there is no evil neither mercy
Neither sinners nor such divinity
There is only justness and impropriety
Two-chambered in somewhat a unity
So when the drape falls, I shall be quick to take a bow
Re-create a mannequin sprawl as opposed to a beau
For it's an alliance free of rupture
Should such emotion arise, nevermore will I miscarry the utter

-PRK-

The Butterfly Room

As I get to the swallow hole
You surfaced, kicked to locomote
Often I see you in my sleep
On the boat you were rocking with your thoughts
While the devil makes its round
My songs overwrote the memory
A misquoted wound
A Shakespearean's tragedy

-PRK-