YURI DURAAN Poems

Anyone can write about sex...

It is like writing about the rain -
only being able to aptly describe it
...

I woke up one night because
I heard you call...
I answered the night
but the night was still
...

Today is not a day for poetry...
it is a day for sketching -

I shall take a blank page and
...

The moon hangs low tonight over the city
the colour of a blood orange
a portent of hate,
the same colour as the flames
...

I find it easy to pray for
other people -
to wish them happiness
safety
...

She waits on the steps of his building,
sitting daintily, so not to crease her dress
checking and rechecking her appearance
in a silver-plated compact mirror
...

I am unreachable
floating amongst the stars
removed from all things mundane
- no soil on my hands
...

I sit in the bath
letting the water run out
not moving
my body glistening from the
...

The stage is empty now,
having been swept for the
repeat performance...
the used styrofoam cups
...

When is a flower more beautiful?

Is it when it has grown
from a seed,
...