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Laura Lidker

Imago

I knew a girl who jumped into the mirror
to face an impostor who hijacked her life
she raged and craved furious passions,
yearned to burn and be consumed in short,
sharp intervals,
while the impostor calmly brushed her hair,
applied make-up
and rehearsed some nonsense for the upcoming date
with a man they both fancied.

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Dancer

Whose land is my land
I sway and obey
I dance, whatever the rhythm...
And they, who wear the crutches of partial ones
have forgotten how to dance
missing not a limb
their music dead and dim
under the hum of their cities.
I dance....dance....
weave the spell through the body
and set its music free
drumming throbs of my pulse
where I am no one but me
Look how tall you've grown,
you unbound
free, free dancer....

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iTiRenna

I remember
your half closed lashes
and your shy freckled body,
you were all things
I was none at all.
I was falling in and out of
love with you,
and was glad to do the leaving.
It felt like a fine butchers cut
across your lofty heart
You sang for me.
I remember the quiet,
whispering drone of your
voice,
your lips shaping for
a kiss while I stole away
with a lie.
I remember you opening
your legs for me, trembling,
from love and fear and fear

[...] Read more

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Stakeout

In came a man with prying eyes
wanting to know all my secrets
I wrestled him in the dark
till they spilled and ricocheted
into inclement daylight
and now they are pinned on the wall
for his amusement.
In came a woman with a knowing smile
wanting to take more than I could give
she said she saw something
yet looked right through me
now I am left wondering
what it is I don't know about my innermost self.
The others who followed
asked no questions,
plundered and pillaged for their share.
I looked at the man with prying eyes
‘till he saw his own hunger,
I peered at the woman with a cruel smile
‘till she dropped her gaze and wept

[...] Read more

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Ghost II

You are becoming fiction in my mind, my psyche...
I carved you now perfect
and summoned all the ghosts to breathe into you
their forbidden longing and unspoken curse
My body is hungry for you,
for itself touched by you
I don't want to know you - before you and after you
You are fiction in my mind, my psyche
Your name doesn't matter
your touch could be mindful
And I will remember
Like I always do, from long ago....
That you may have been here once,
That you left a trace upon my skin
Where you have been, the ghosts will remember...
I have imagined you already,
and you filled the spaces not previously considered
There will be tender feelings and all the right feelings
and after they are eaten and digested there will be
peace and storm

[...] Read more

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Ballad Of A Married Woman

When did I say I do,
and not I am -
I do - be a wife…
I do and do and do
lump the mess of marriage ingredients
and carrot my way to your entrails that sing to me
in tones of olive oil and bread…
slice and dice and stew my claim on you while you
masticate my daydreams….
walk the streets announced as I do - your wife
a certain star has dimmed in my eye
I strut my invisible status - a Mrs so and so,
dragging the single girl you married along for the ride
in disguise of everyday becoming the wife - I do.
The married self unrecognized in the kitchen not my own,
in the bed of our obligatory good night kiss & run
waking up to coffee and your clumsy content smile -
I do - your wife
taking my leave between the fragrant kitchen hours,
and soils of our laundry, the glum of domesticity.

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Salute to imperfections

I covet a small piece of you,
that doesn't belong to your wife
that hasn't a place in your everyday life,
the piece I laid claim on
when we were wee
and love seemed such a grand
and all pervading myth.
I covet a secret part of you
that never sees the light of day
that shy, soft, breakable part of you
where dreams lay nestled in safety
of your carefully assembled memories.
I crave that part of you,
that wild, raw part of you that needs to
be tamed quickly for appearances sake
where you appear all knowing and sane
while crumbling into leftovers from
crippling fears and near disasters.
I cry for that cruel, selfish part of you
that could singe a field of tender flowers

[...] Read more

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