Peter Lilly: Poems

Litter grew around us, teeth gritted in impatience for the filthy fruit of our consumption, that is transported from beyond the individualist's horizon. Your universe hates you when the lights are off, shutting its eyes to your waking, and all those words you bring to life as you read from pages that appear as you turn them. Anaesthesia dissolves the teeth leaving you with mysterious bite marks and bitter amnesia, it clouds the resolve of your blinkers and your mirrored walls. Echoes of outside draw its fingernails across chalk boards of yet to learn lessons, coughing up childhood traumas of empathy. They drain opaque from your worldview and leave you with the monsters, and the monstrous landfill skyline that scowls at your children's future. Yet beyond that refuse view there are leaves with the colours of depth. There is living matter never to be synthesised, and mass produced. There is an oceans of faces, ev...

Skin chases skin alone and stretches itself until it dulls every window, pouring restlessness into home. Skin knows its pours are suffocating and draws its own ink to display fading ideas as permanent tracing these tattoos, hallucinating. Skin licks mirror's cold and clouds wet circles, yet at it's most lucid it realises it's own translucence thus, realises its potential for skin is part, not purpose. Written late in January 2012