I'll allow the tv to collect dust; Fame, drama, lust and celebrity; White noise, no poise just Do not bring you nearer to me. I'm putting a curb on my tongue; Lies, gossip, fake intimacy Dark fun - all leave hearts stung and, does not bring you nearer to me. I’ll stick to these resolutions. … Continue reading Poem: The Resolution
Don’t Text When You’re Drunk
I blame laughter and Sauvignon Blanc; Friday night, an inept DJ. I wonder how you read my misspelled words. Did they whisper or shout at 2am? Mute in the light; grey and painful, Each idiom deciphered, pored over. Now expectancy fills the space in my chest, Heavy and humid like my damp flat. Present residue, … Continue reading Don’t Text When You’re Drunk
Transform Me
Your fingertips shaped Creation, And what was good is perfect. Intentional inspiration; more than worthy of respect. Extravagant your bestowing Light, entity, a deluge of galaxies. Meticulous Designer, fore-knowing Scrutiny, query in life’s galleries. Indulgent Father, I create anarchy An unintentioned disposition Still, you relinquish your love to me Lavishly, at your own volition. Reshape … Continue reading Transform Me
How She Prays
Orange skies and Lemoncello. So clings the last vestige of day. She's supine, captured in yellow. Cherry red lips parted. Cloudless, open are the heavens, Ear cocked to hear her prayer. She's wordless, emptied even, Her contrition halted. Tell her heaven hears her speaking, No matter how quiet the sound. Catch her before she's weeping. … Continue reading How She Prays
Headstrong
You miss me most when you're craving Your heart of discontent And then you cry you're worth saving On this, i daily lament. It hurts to see you head strong When your heart is so very weak. All sacrifice seems worthless. I long For the prayer which you never speak. All I ask is that … Continue reading Headstrong
Poem: Vauxhall Bridge
I hid my chapped lips, The last vestige of winter Save for the wind which blew tear tripping cold. It ruffled the watery murk, blowing it across the vauxhall bridge traffic; Now surreal by osmosis. Later, balm smeared my wine glass. Merlot hid the cracks, And you painted a similar picture; Something cold, and murky … Continue reading Poem: Vauxhall Bridge
The London Poetry Festival: 7th – 10th August 2009
Poets are brave souls. Not only do they pour out their heart into their PCs, choosing the most eloquent words to describe the sometimes stained, sometimes rank, always kaleidoscopic world we live in; they also read them out! So, knees knocking, i also performed..and it does felt good! This year my favourites were: 'Poets in … Continue reading The London Poetry Festival: 7th – 10th August 2009
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