Demos-Haiku

We will stand in line

together, to choose the path

that will divide us

© Graham Sherwood 06/2017

Gig

That’s it, it’s over,
your first gig,
and no-one can put the genie
back in the bottle now.

There will be no more arguments
about being all grown up,
no fractious rows about,
how responsible you are
and how you really
can look after yourself.

It was only the half-smile and
“give her a break” look
from your mother
that melted my indignant resolve
sadly it will haunt her forever.

So I reluctantly said yes!
and foolishly added the haughty caviat
“but make sure you
come out early before the crush”
a defeated dad’s demand
that will haunt me for eternity too.

The only thing that may
keep me sane,
keep me strong for your mum’s sake
was the serene look of pleasure
on your beautiful face
as you hurried down the steps
caught my eye and waved jubilantly,
before your words suffocated
behind the flash.

© Graham Sherwood 22/05/2017

Noises Off

It’s a quiet house now, but

still the refrigerator grumbles

several times a day,

chuntering grudgingly

evasive in the corner, like

an old man in a public lavatory

having difficulty with a troublesome fly button,

immersed in some personal 
but secret commentary.

In the same room, and

not to be outdone

a splendid kitchen clock

a headmistress in the making

claps out loud, for attention at

twenty-to the hour,

but strangely

she only applauds us twice a day.

After the heating has been on, and

the house cools of an evening,

the radiators stolid

as a pair of opening batsmen

retire for the day un-bowled,

sending a turbulent creak

through spare-bedroom Jim

who settles by turning over in contracting huff.

I, prone on the small sofa

need to mimic a corpse

for fear of releasing a random fart

from the highly-polished leather,

dissatisfied with the knowledge

that no-one will believe it wasn’t me.

It’s a quiet house now

there’s only two of us.

© Graham Sherwood 05/2017

Masoch

It is the fiercest of beasts

that gnaws our wits

wakes us from peaceful slumber

and gives relentless chase.

We alone

have curated this voracious animal

and are now its slaves,

it needs us not, but

keeps us in this benign captivity

having locked us up

within its cage,

invisible, indomitable, and

of our own precise fabrication.

Thus, we are doomed to wither

until our blessed release,

the monster slain

and us, left

free to roam eternity.

© Graham Sherwood 05/2017