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Root From the root grows a branch. Wisend and twisted not curled like the rest. Nightmares feed this branch. Too dark, too thick, I pluck at it to...

When Bobby was a toddler his grandma used to look at him bouncing around the room. "Why are you always so happy Bobby?" she'd ask "Is it because the day ends in a y?"

Envy, its a sin.

There might be some point where I snap - looking at myself in the mirror under the pull-down in the dark. I hope it will be soon that I am addressed...

Casual Encounter It's funny how we never know where the most unexpected of meetings might lead. You can pass someone in the street and give them a...

A cage has been opened; Now the floor floods with sun and we twitter in anticipation: the grass was green last time. Over the ceiling, and unmade...

You'll have to look hard to find the rhyme structure in this one. Spoken, you won't hear it, but matching up the lines in writing it's possible to see it. I had fun practices rhymes on this poem, rather than going for the musical effect of a good rhyme scheme, hence the weirdness. Written on a German exchange.

Uh. Andrea. I wish I could talk How we two sit here every week with the oak beams black as black claret, black as scorpions. Bleak. And the plaster,...

Dyes the colours of the night so peekly