Beady-eyed

‘Tree Frog’ by Candace and Joe Zetter

I am the bead amongst the reeds;
consider this my only warning.
Poised by night, and held till morning.
Stay awhile. Come hide and seek,
leak not a croak, make not a creak.
As you attempt your nightly deeds,
beware the bead amongst the reeds.

I am the fresh, the flush, the mesh
and weave of leaves where you can rest
inside, entwined, in pillars of dew,
where the air comes to settle and the sun slides on through.
Succumb to the rustle. Kick on back and concede,
and pay no attention to the bead in the reeds…

Strut

Untitled, by Saskia Neville

Dress yourself in royal quills
and strut upon the palace walls,
but you won’t fool me with your trills,
cos through it all we hear your squalls.

That’s not to say you don’t look grand,
your colours mesmerise and stun,
but just be careful where you stand,
for in the rain the colours run.

Taut

‘Align’ by Lydia Hunt

Something’s wrong.
I’m sore from all the plucking
and the tugging at my core,
I’m stretched and taut and split and caught,
and finally I’m seen;
tearing at the stitches,
my color itches for the switches
that relax the strings that tie me,
the cables laid inside me,
they twist and try to hide me
in a monochrome design.

I’m drawn (and live) in line.
My face toward the wall until
you will that I align,
so turn my cheek, and have me speak
the way that you define.

But I’m tired of all my wires,
your desires, and this game,
and you best believe I’ll draw upon
this pain to fuel my flame.

I dare you to approach me.
My poise is wearing thin.
This trap longs to relieve you of
the color in your skin.