Squatter
there was no paradise lost
only a path overgrown by
the weeds of humanity
chill
How do one cry
when tears are
frozen, a once
chilly heart now
permafrosted.
The crystals
spreading, joints
creaking, limbs
breaking, teeth
rattling. How do
one cry when
tears are frozen,
how do one melt
something so
cold
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Lament – like treacle through my veins, an outpouring of perfection in thoughts obfuscated by a mind gone awry. Where once was solitude, now a raging storm.
Circle-no-10 // tumbling
reflections
He looks at me with tired eyes
unshaven – disorder
He looks uncared for
neglected – forgotten
He looks at me
wanting – longing
A Man With a Child in His Eyes
a mirror reflection
(inspired by the title of the song The Man With a Child in His Eyes by Kate Bush)
Rainbow of Dreams
In our brave new world
our poetry must be
variegated,
no more dark nights
starlit skies
Join me in a collective
puke, behold the sun
striking down to
reveal our
Rainbow of Dreams
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The Truth was
He didn’t Care
I wrote this many years ago, I now see that it wasn’t the truth then, deep down something cared and continued to fuel life. That fire now cold, fiction finally catching up with reality.
delusional
I loved the writing right up until the point I
realised nobody else did, so I questioned
the sanity, the arbitrary grasping for the heart,
mindful of the multitude and multiverse I
chose the lesser path. I married ink, the
divorce so so painful.