This love’s a craving a desire deeper than the fishes- there is so much dark in me and though I myself can always see the light, the beacon, it may not flash so consistently for another locked into my orbit. I burn as brightly as the sun yet when I meet another hotter entity I…… Continue reading Phoenix Rising (poem)
I’m looking after a cat for the week. It’s the cutest pet and sometimes my mind falls away with it. Are metaphors successful if nobody else understands them? In the past my mind employed harmless ideas to cover up ghosts. The groping fingers of my grey matter would drape its ghouls in silks and baubles…… Continue reading Catharsis (2)
I started to write. The air around me was still and the past progressed from my finger-tips like taffy. Outside the sky was glaring blue. I watched high up as the clouds scudded past like stupid children, bumbling along on an unknown current oblivious to the implications of their movement and participation. Their cow-white presence…… Continue reading Catharsis (1)
“Without hope, all men are animals,” he tells me stoically from the chair. “And all women too!” I reply with an ironic grimace, teeth bared to cover up All our fear. We smell it on ourselves now, Universal a low lingering sour scent of too many mistakes, too many actions unable to be undone, By…… Continue reading POWER Responsibility.
“Would you do anything for me?” the question holds so many implications. I try to hold onto something more than what I am, but it all turns to snarling grimaces, to ashes in my mouth. Do we need to fight for me to feel real; do I need to let you hurt me feel your…… Continue reading Feelings (poem)
Oh mad world- you want to chew me up and spit me out so badly and I am tempted, I cannot deny the heady scent of your hot saliva, dripping, steaming calls out to something in my blood, something salty red and present which only wants to be devoured. It’s just that- there’s another urge…… Continue reading Chew me up, spit me out
I’m presently locked into a violent and somewhat personal battle with the words which exist in my head. I’ve found most of the relevant ones already, now I’m struggling to rearrange them into an order which pleases me. This battle’s been going on for quite some time, and my associated war wounds are real and…… Continue reading #WritingCommunity
Tired synapses struggle with connection. I blink, and look back down to the page. Words stutter, to resolve themselves on my lips and in my mind, they patter out from the darkness on flat feet and flail about in the light of awareness, my brain’s waves are irregular- inspiration stutters and blasts in and out,…… Continue reading Tired synapses
Turns out the love stories were all just two dimensional. Whether on screen or on the pages of a bookthey didn’t stand up to scrutinyand so when I became more confident and certain of my own rightsto inspect these accounts more closely I lifted them up and turned them on their head and they simply…… Continue reading Overturning love-stories
Mary Shelley shot a bolt of lightening into me; I’m not sure whether it entered between my legs or through my eyes but suddenly I saw stars and the very atoms of the air crackled with infinite potential and malevolent design. Inspiration is right in front of me- I will create a literary monster and…… Continue reading Inspiration
