Needles and Tears


needles and tears

the only bright sparks of life

below rotting skylines


crime trampled so thin

it learns to grin like an x-ray


he rents a stool

where the cheap signals are loud

waiting hunched, bewildered


nothing is so tactful

as a stalker’s tactful hate


on stage she shows

a blonde aura of solemn marble,

a glazed closeness


lonely masks are hung up

she whispers to non-entities


their blood squirms –

her heart has small hands, clutching

silent assassins


he sees bloody particles

of the moon and howling beds


fuelled full of goodbyes,

all love tastes of questions –

he sees no remedy


he stands with the scattered rhythms

of a dying man’s heels


lurching from the bar

he greets the carcass of the night

under creeping stars


shadows excuse excuses

where night’s coiled to a cold trap


collar turned up,

her breath makes cryptic ghosts

as winter kissed her mouth


she whistles, unsuspecting

though stray dogs hear his fists clench


in puddles and piss

in sour struggles, they meet –

like the last dregs of sex


passers-by pass them by

in the trivial night


then look askance

where roses of powder-burns

draw circusing flies


This poem was written for Carpe Diem Ghost Writer #36, Haiku Noir, in which Jen of Blog It Or Lose It asked us to write a “haiku noir”, inspired by Raymond Chandler. This is another great prompt hosted by Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai and all of the poems in the link-up can be read here. Although I wrote this as a direct response to the prompt I haven’t added it to the link-up since, having got carried away, I realise I went in a slightly different direction to “haiku that explores the darker parts of nature – nature at the dirty edges of humanity.” Ah well, you gotta go where the inspiration takes you, right 🙂