The Hedgehog That Almost Drowned
All Poems © 1998 Maurice Dekker
WITHOUT REVEALING
On that day I realised
that without
something to believe in,
the belief in something Creative,
I did not know what to do.
There was a force driving me
towards some kind of religion,
but I did not know which one,
or what, or even how.
Should I try to picture God?
Should I deliberately not?
Should I believe in the story of Creation?
Was there truth in reincarnation?
That morning I woke up
the beliefs in something Creative.
I did not know what to do.
There was a force driving me,
but I didn't know which one.
I tried to picture religion
as a force driving me on
without revealing, ever,
any details transcending
my own comprehension.
I was happy to have found
a belief to believe in.
299 (NUMBER)
There was a box
which could be fed
and which could feed
you also.
There was a mouse
that didn't squeak
and a board
you couldn't walk on.
There was a screen
that flickered and
produced something
new yet familiar
every time
you looked at it.
There was a
capacity
and a bus
which held a lot
but rarely held
enouogh for all.
There was a drive
where the bus never parked
(the bus never drove)
and the mouse
was the master of
it's own fate.
HOLD ME
I will try never to come back,
though there is no guarantee
and no insurance policy.
And the quality of the conversations
is a right let-down
(though I never show I'm dissatisfied)
Heal me.
Heal me.
Heal me.
Help me.
Hold me.
Held me.
SPLASHINGS
Earth splashing up
Scurrying sideways,
The banks are steep,
plantation heavy, thick,
invisibility secured.
Cock, gun, click, seen.
Spotted (with earth, splashed up).
Splashed up before my feet
scurrying sideways onto
the banks thick with growth
and invisibility
although I am still spotted
(not with earth, seen by them
whom I cocked my gun for
but it's too late as it failed
as did I as they didn't).
THE HEDGEHOG THAT ALMOST DROWNED
Dark nights in the village
without the usual comfort
of streetlights.
Me and my brother
saving a hedgehog
from being run over.
And another one
from drowning
in a bathtub
which was used
as a small pond.
Water caressing lilies,
carrying frogs,
and reflecting stars
so bright in the new moon
you could believe
they allowed you
to cast a shadow
on the grass.
Clouds drifting by invisibly,
save for the stars going on
and off and on again.
The hedgehog
that almost drowned
slowly regained
its consciousness,
ate a little,
and scurried off
into the darkness.
THE BATTLE
I have come clad in iron
And with sword in arm raised
To do battle with Love
Which forever has chased
Me to the brink
On the back of my mare.
With love once deprived
Of fear and despair
I shall finally sit
With the good parts of Love
Such as worship and romance
And the angel up above.
The fight will be fierce
I shall never give up
Till Love is bled dry
Catching every drop.
I need Love to be pure
Cleansed from every stain
No room left for fear
For despair or for pain.
The beauty of Love
The things that go wrong
Thoughts unintentionally
Placed in a song
Never meant to be heard
By people like you
Because of my fear
To be understood.
THIS SICKNESS
This rubber care
This rubber dress
Bouncing back
relentlessly
snapping into shape
(beck and call)
The grim realism of life
covered neatly under
Packages
All packages
covered neatly up
the truth (horror!)
Damn this sickness!
THE SMELL OF THE BEACH
There's a smell
On the beach
Reminiscent of
Cow's leather.
Slight of salt,
Some biological process
(of degrading perhaps).
Smell of salt in sand,
Hints of seaweed.
I smell my new leather belt
And I'm back on the beach,
Shell to my ear,
Hearing the waves.
![[The Smell of the Beach]](gif/poembeach.html)
IN THE TIME IT TAKES A LEAF TO DROP
In these prison camps were people held
Pupils asking their master to teach
Ever so slowly the ice will melt
And give him strength to make the breach
In time the body left to ache
The yearning of the millions stop
The candle burning in the wake
In the time it takes a leaf to drop
The mirror in which the prisoner shaves
Has for many years now been unclear
The teachings that the master saves
Concentrate on the pupils' fear
Decisions he would have to make
Allowing them to reach the top
Sank to the bottom of the lake
In the time it takes a leaf to drop
Burning down the ignoble welt
To ask for things out of his reach
The time it took to smell his belt
And take him right back to the beach
Pondering what's real, what's fake
On fields he saw the grass and crop
Left out here the cup will cake
In the time it takes a leaf to drop
The sea hollowing the earth with caves
The threat of water always near
The sounds of seagulls, lapping waves
Holding the conch up to his ear
The seconds it took the earth to shake
Buying matches from the corner shop
The time it took his wrist to break
In the time it takes a leaf to drop