One of those days

One of those days where I feel a bit fragmented. Though I do not know why. All my pieces are fragile and press too hard in the wrong place, you could shatter me. Jagged lines web out from your fingertip, I’ll try not to cut you if I break. You didn’t know about the broken …

The Constriction of a Lady

I see it for the first time in the centre of the room. It is plain white, without too many frills this time, because it is to be my first, now I am grown up. Pink silk ribbons crisscross down the lacy back and trail away at the end like slack nooses, before they are …

Not a Poet

I say I’m not a poet (though I do write poetry). I judged the words a poet above my capabilities. I said I’m not a poet, but I wrote all this poetry. So it seems that I am wrong and a poet I must be.

Two Nights

Tonight, my footsteps press down on the Autumn leaves, glistening. The rain reflects yellow under the streetlamp. And, my steps are soundless without effort - I am quiet That night, I was trying to be silent. It was a night almost like this. Though the slick rain turned the ground platinum instead of yellow, under …

15/05/19

As the days pass us by in the blink of an eye we blithely continue while women’s tissue and sinew is not their own to control – just someone’s political goal. And as crowds walk past, I can’t help but ask: Has no one told you we’re at war? I want cars to stop and …

A Life: In Short

For my affections you bravely vied There was a knot between us tied. You sailed away and how I cried. Then you returned and how I sighed. * You shouted and you implied, You begged that I really tried, You were angry when I defied. * I wanted to live so I lied, And in …

Same Old Siren

I hear a wailing siren I wonder if it's for me? Cos my ship's sure sinking Into this ragged sea. I could scream an SoS But I fear I've lost my voice My throat's choked with saltwater So now I have no choice. And here beneath the waves The world is rendered soft, But then …

The Winter Spirit

I'll leave starlight in my footsteps And sprinkle snowflakes from my hands I'll sculpt icicles into poetry And paint night across the land My steed will be the Aurora Of moonlight will be her reins And we'll ride each Winter's eve Through the twilit roads and lanes My hairpieces will be spiders' webs Frozen in …

Soul Strings

As though my soul were a guitar, And he played my every string. Sometimes his words, Reverberating. In harmony. Other days, The notes vibrating. In a cacophony of brilliant discord. As he played my soul for me.

My Paper Heart is Kindling

(The Beginning)   The day they bring him home All glistening, white as bone My pages quiver and moan For I know I’m a doomed old tome   “6,000 books!” I hear them say “And £100, that’s all to pay” I’d burn him if I had my way But my way’s gone, I’ve had my …