MatterIt is only a matter of time
until the stone lays down with the sheep
Rested firmly above the holes
where our eyes used to be.
It is only a matter of matter
until epitaph and eulogy diminish to dust
becomes the eternal home,
not where our souls used to be.
It is only a matter of fact
that our words will become reductionist, redundant,
the world will forget
where our words used to be.
40810If only you were soulless.408103 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you were mindless, blind,
you and I could make a beautiful disaster.
The press would write of our brief affair;
they'd paint me (the woman in red) as pathetic.
They will not consider how I need your love
or how it pains me so deeply to throw myself at you.
I will not be remembered as a poet warrior.
I'll be the eternal survivor no more.
All who think of me will shake their bowed heads
and tearfully remark;
If only you were soulless.
If you were mindless, blind,
You wouldn't have been such a bloody disaster.
Losing my BreathIt's 2amLosing my Breath2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the calling birds
are hatching in my heart,
I feel it crack and they emerge.
Feel them drilling on my ribs,
the steady anxious thrum
of a flight risk
waiting to happen.
and I can't breathe,
memories of you
are nesting in my throat
I can't work around them.
It's cutting off the circulation,
and my frantic heart
tries to keep on.
and tears scratch their directions
into my cheeks,
they flounder and meander
and they erode.
My skin and soul is scraped down
layer by layer
and another day is heralded
by the angry flutterings in my chest.
I try to swallow my pride,
dam the tears
and crawl through the dark again.
Coughing up blood
and inhaling iron filings
(The remainder of
what used to be my life).
The DescriptionHe drinks coffeeThe Description2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
its the art of seduction,
and quite honestly
when he does it
it might as well be.
You'll catch him
frowning into it
as he hastily scribbles
in a notebook
to make the world
El cambia a español
en la mitad del frase
and I don't think
he even realises.
He loves the world
that to be a part of it
leaves you feeling
He makes the world seem
to contain his love
and when he smiles,
because he reminds me
that there is hope
to be had.
For the world,
For people like us.
He is soil,
Salt of the earth,
of everything good
that will grow from
He is a ramshackled
waking up to
the realisation that
he is an innovator;
and that his passion
could change the world.
Perfect on PaperWe cut heartsPerfect on Paper3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
into paper to make streams
That was my impression of it.
That you ripped
the pieces you didn't want
until you got something that was
It's no wonder
that I can't believe that someone
would think I was paper-perfect,
The White ThingsNothing is as far away as a minute ago.The White Things3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No matter how hard you row against the tide
we can never reach it, never return there.
It's hard to sleep in the light of my regrets
that creeps through curtain and barriers
to rot away and bleach all things white.
It's hard to sleep knowing that no distance
is as far away as sixty small seconds ago.
Immalleable, we rot, and things turn white.
GrowthI remember the day I caught him 'gardening'. His cheeks stained cherry with the brisk wind that trotted beside him up and down the smothered garden path. He dropped a seed as his feet brushed past each other. Up and down he walked, a solemn lieutenant. I asked him what he was doing and those wide sky eyes reflected the ice as he told me he was trying to grow flowers for his mother. I looked at the seeds spilt on the snow and told him that they could never grow in these circumstances. I will never forget the clench in my heart when he responded, with a child's tongue; "I know".Growth3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
United, We WriteHear me read itUnited, We Write3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
0hgravity, if by some divine fortune you should decide that today is the day you will fail me, then let me soar through the ChemicalSkyline. Grant me a-lovely-anxiety that raises a storm InTheStarryNightSky for me to riseandbe above all else. Let me soar.
How I long to be the frail rider-on-the-storm and not a victim of the RoamingShadow, Rogue-Of-The-Night, that BlackVelvetNightmare of my nights and days. I long
Thy lips are warmOf all the words that mouth at loveThy lips are warm3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and soften it with tongue and tooth
None will ever justify this breakage.
Never will there be diction enough
To make a heart salve, or tears unwept.
There will never be a word of woe
That suits to the shape of the thing.
Though many mouths may speak
of love and all her many expressions
airs, graces and confabulations.
None will correlate the meaning truly
how I loved for him, and he not for me.
In The StarsIn the stab of the night,In The Stars3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
when there is no moon
or modern light to guide you -
there will be stars.
They will burn themselves out
with the vehemence with which
they shine for you.
They will desperately radiate
their message to you
across lightyears of dead air,
they are full with it.
They are children
holding their breath
until you beg them to stop.
They are waiting for you
to be ready to hear them.
In the ache of the night,
when there are no whispers
or echoes to guide you -
there will be stars;
and those stars will be couriers
baring these words to you
emblazoned with their royal seal.
They will be eternally pressed
in the spaces between space
Somehow in the cracks
of infinite nothingness
you will find my words.
Wedged behind a stereo
until you think to move it.
They are waiting for you
to be ready to feel them.
In the grimace of the night,
when there are no tears
or smiles to guide you -
there will be stars.
They will be distant eyes
full of my love for you
that will watc
HAIKUWRIMOCOMPLETE 2013HAIKUWRIMO3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
February 28th, 2013
A feeble whimper for help;
roar of these raw times.
February 27th, 2013
Gluttonous ash cloud
sucks the moon's blood
and swallows the night.
February 26th, 2013
Bark! An explosion!
Angry bodies escape the
network of lung cells.
February 25th, 2013
multiplying, honing in,
determined to kill.
February 24th, 2013
Tea and sympathy
for my dear sister.
February 23rd, 2013
I will hold my breath
as the north wind does the same
waiting for your love.
February 22nd, 2013
He hovers behind;
February 21st, 2013
A long slow curve,
your smile upon my shoulder,
a scar of your touch.
February 20th, 2013
Where do you go while I sleep?
To whom do you run?
February 19th, 2013
Whorls from fingers
Imprinted in the trees
Count their rings too.
February 18th, 2013
I Didn't Hear YouWhen you say goodbye to me - said goodbye to me. I didn't hear you. I didn't really consider the tangible loss of us. I was busy. Because in my mind I was hearing years worth of goodbyes, that run in a steady loop of vinyl to make the white noise soundtrack to my tears. I was busy listening.I Didn't Hear You3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You left me for a logical and reasonable reason. I'll never understand it. I'll never really process what your goodbye meant or how it was intended. It was lost on me. I was busy. Because in my mind I was listing all the reasons that I told myself you would eventually leave me over. It was the hummingbird heart of our relationship that behind what I would say, there was what I thought. Two very different things.
Underneath a less than gracious acceptance of you moving on, there are cracks so wide that the substance that the cracks are between becomes the cracks in the emptiness. My head is empty space with slithers of pain far and few between.
But on those cliff blades that make up the terra
For every boy I ever kissedi.For every boy I ever kissed2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you took my hand 'neath the magnolia
at a christmas dinner party I held.
your mouth was cold. so were my affections.
you were the first man to listen to me.
i let you listen to my heartbeat; but
when the day fell away, you bruised me deep.
you were my safe harbour, and i your storm
turning your misery to naught but air
but i squirmed away from your tongue, repulsed.
you were my cradle, when i couldn't sleep
you would hold me close and pray for something,
anything, to keep me safe. (it was you).
eleven months spent sleeping with my phone,
i still couldn't believe when you kissed me
even after midnight struck us again.
i don't miss those guitar-player fingers
you wrapped me 'round. i loved enough for you
until i realised you didn't love me.
we fell into our love by accident
and like one, there were some fatalities
when you said you loved me using her name.
opposites attract. i fell hard for you.
you kissed me in starlit castle ruins.
The Bone CollectorSometimes my breath catches in my throatThe Bone Collector3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the very stillness of an earth going
a thousand and three miles per hour
gets lodged there.
Sometimes these simple exchanges
leave me breathless, croaking on dust:
the unfiltered pigments of other people's skin
and blood and ash
but with my tarred lungs and itchy eyes
I sit and sift through charcoaled remains,
alphabetising them from c to c. I am lost
in a world charred brazen.
Many things I have loved have turned to ash.
Many people. I was naive enough to think
that there was some perfect nutritional truth
that could outlast hell-fire.
I claw through a world turned ashen
and know those dead embers collect in my cells
They are the harbingers of a truth
I do not want.
The skittish earth throws its skirts about again
to unsettle us all, and I am unsettled
Alone in the dirt, organising piles of bone-dust
he did not love, at all.
The DancerHear me read itThe Dancer3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The night I met Jessie she was beautiful. She swayed to the almost intolerably loud music as if her bones were made of it. She was something unknown. I remember the sharp cut of her hair had run across her cheek, parallel to her carved-out cheekbone. It looked like a wig, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch her, and see if she felt like plastic. Who could ever believe that someone so perfect could be so real. I regret that. I regret doubting her reality.
Eventually she bought me a drink; she called it an Appleté but trapped in the pulsating fuchsia lights of the club it looked purple. It tasted like jealousy; sour and eye watering. When I told her this she laughed a little, apparently she'd heard that one before. I drank it anyway. I wanted to slot into my assigned role in her fantastical world.
We talked a little. She served other men drinks. The ones in the shadows could have been my reflection. It was confusing. The
Mother EarthMy body is the earth;Mother Earth3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
See how under this bruise
A seed of malcontent sleeps.
See what grows out of each pore
As the pain pours over again.
There is rust in my fingerbeds
That poisons the roots
Of all good that hopes to grow here.
I am the convulsing, revolution
of the convoluted Earth...
I am the tectonic blades that clash
and shout when I curl up and hide.
You will feel me when I tremble,
and fear me when I explode
for under the magmanimous skin
There burns a core of hate
That can't be marred by human hand.
Cavities1. One 23 foot length of intestine. Only one small knot in the system. £3006. Free shipping.Cavities3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
2. One kidney. (2 available from this seller). Each with a centimeter of renal artery included free! Order now and we will throw in a free gallbladder in near pristine condition! £2700.
3. One brain (faulty) with scratches in the frontal lobe due to patching of a minor issue from warehouse. Refurbished by a licensed neurosurgeon. Not fully functional but perfect for parts. Serotonin not included. £18200
4. One vertebral column with or without spinal cord to suit buyer. Can be gift wrapped to taste with a personalised card. Leave your message at checkout. £14020
5. Bundle offer! Dignity, artistic integrity and skill available to any loving home. £1 or nearest offer. Will negotiate.
BuriedUnder the paprika house,Buried3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
are the bones of my father
and nestled between rib
and reason, is our love.
EveShe wore a galaxy on her rib-cage,Eve2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
settled high upon her breast,
when I kissed her I could taste it;
the currency of her success.
The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselvesThe Man and the Moon2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
Of Nuisance LeavesHear me read it!Of Nuisance Leaves3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Leaves clutch their ropy fingers around the tree's limbs. The zesty leeches bloom, crack open overnight and slip silently up the nearest oak or maple. They pierce the crunch of bark and penetrate deep into the rubbery veins.
They feed. They pauperize plum and peach until they are heavy and brown; heavy laden with the stolen sap.
When at last they reach their fill the tree can finally shake them off emphatically, desperately, until at last it is clean again. The tree reaches its black bones to the sky in praise and as a new year begins vows never again to be the victim of leaves.
In absence of a poem.I chewed my pen to the nibIn absence of a poem.3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and swallowed the ink thoughtlessly,
but no matter how long I thought,
I couldn't say what you mean to me.
I tried, I tried and I tested,
every word in my diminutive range,
but I screwed up more pieces of paper
and happened upon something strange;
I noticed words, which have served me,
for all of my formative years,
had no power to convey my gratitude
for the times that you dried my tears.
Whenever I doubt myself (often),
You're the one who tells me I'm wrong
You lift up my chin and remind me, wait
for the good things that will come along.
I can't find a way to express how
you are the saving grace in my head.
So words can't tell you how I love you -
I hope my silence will tell you instead.
BathAn untidy circle of golden peaksBath3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with shimmering gems tumbling down
that thrum through with shafts of sun.
How welcomed I feel when I see
the emerald shrug draped about
your fine matriarchal shoulders
reaching out to draw me close.
The sapphiric glint in your eye,
you invite me in and give me shelter.
All through your house you're present
every corner shines antique brass
and the small blemishes I see
only endear you to me further.
Settled on your asparagus bedding,
with the sweep of ruralesque tones
down the front of your stately dress,
Austen's own, I desire you.
I want to steal you.
Pluck you from your landlocked throne
and throw you hard into the minds
of a new generation of romantics
who will bend at the knee and call you
"her Majestic city"
I will thief you in the night
when no one is looking for me -
mark my words as I mark your streets
with my impatient footprints settling;
and soon you will be my very own, Bath.
ConsummationHear me read it!Consummation2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In debris beside your house
there's the rotting stench of home,
where all the ghosts of lovers
and their broken chances go.
You smile at me, I shiver.
I taste your tongue on mine.
There's no dead for the sympathy
as you trespass bound'ry lines.
In the broken bulb of midnight
when the caskets rock to sleep
there beneath the soil bed
you lay me down, I weep.
You smile at me, I wonder
as you pin me underneath
if you know how I wish that I
were six feet more beneath.
In the soiled marital bed
where pigs and otters go to lie
you grunt your way to release
the only release I want, is to die.
How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning?Sunnyside up.How Do You Like Your Eggs In The Morning?3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The pan was still warm when I dropped it into the sink. We had eggs. You had them sunnyside up, but I couldn't bear runny egg whites and so I had scrambled. Just in case. You found your right shoe and left. I sat at the kitchen table drumming my fingers against the buttercup plastic cloth and thought about Life with a capital L. What was it all about?
I started to think of breakfast as a metaphor for us. You had it all together. Sunnyside up. I was scrambled. A convoluted tick of a person. I started to consider my life as being thoroughly forked. I watched the birds outside the kitchen window for a while and did not relate them to what I had just eaten. After a long slither of time had passed I got up and washed the pan until the eggs were gone. You never came back. I learnt not to mind.