A blackbird sings
I didn’t see it then though I must of known, felt my feelings huddled in a ball, melting bones. Childhood grief, felt in my skewered heart, burnt by compassion’s eyes, bleeding in its beating dome. Now...
View ArticleHope
I have desired to go where wild flowers grow, feel free of weed choked ponds and see the sun reflected in an angel passing near. And I have longed to feel spring’s fresh breezes, along these pathless...
View ArticleFuture Boy
The boy mistrusts them, keeps away, with a sick green tint of grief for all the world, sprinkled lithium in his future gaze. He’s left naked under dirty clothes by day, fed paranoia, anxiety for lunch....
View ArticleRoom of stone
My prison a place of safety in my mind long ago shaped into a room of stone self created shell As I lie the blackness condensed having learned nothing yet plunging deeper into space bleeding empty...
View ArticleDark Angel
Dark angel of the frozen night freezes the blood of souls in pain, and sears the truth right through the brain, spreads stark despair in black and white, cries swollen tears within your fears, with...
View ArticleSometimes
Sometimes the cut is too deep, the wounds bleeding and wide open. I’m not proud of them, never that. Bitterness is my failure. I take it daily, feeling its poison thread through my veins like a drug....
View ArticleSleep
Sleep like the friend you once knew, the one who kept you up all night talking until the clock dropped off, dribbling free-association into the ether pile. Read a book or write a poem, listening to the...
View ArticleLittle poem
This gogyohka dance happened this morning, quite unexpectedly, when @novatwitman stalked and pounced on my tweet of ’little poem’ ~ it resulted in this magical collaborative twitter poem. You can read...
View ArticleTo finally see the colours
My life has often been about chaos and destruction, a walk into dark alone. It isn’t pleasant there; the words I write often sound of black. But when mindfulness awakes me, I begin to write of...
View ArticleThe Winter Witch
In the mornings in her tidy, rumpled room she strips the bed of feathered pillows, creates a deep, embracing warmth. Bereft of sorrow, thought or wealth she drifts through life lost within a sky-lit...
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