Cherrypicked stories
I Drew My Own Face Again Today
sometimes words just don't cut it
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- 1225 reads
Pretty Horses
I know these things they take time to heal like most afflictions of the heart as a child in the beginning he was my hero he could make me laugh to...
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- 1608 reads
Surfacing
A drive North, to clear out the past...
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- 993 reads
Lines In The Snow
Are you travelling in a straight line or a circle
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- 743 reads
Gaunilo was a monk.
I'm taken with Gaunilo but my stomach heaves when he hitches up his cassock and springs into motion. Thin, hairy legs and much too pail, bringing on...
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- 883 reads
Zeno's best friend.
In the warmth of May I learn to breathe and I part, with regret from the hibernation of intent. When I'm reintroduced to Gravity, the boy with the...
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- 917 reads
Memory, distressed and focussed
A rose I squeeze, to be. Bleeding ignored, eyes focused on the beautiful days the petals surely had.
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- 793 reads
Reflected
I wear one magnetic muddy shoe; strung out on time and dancing like a fool. Nothing comes off; I'm always bought so cheap.
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- 707 reads
An unconvinced argument on how to mourn.
Frozen bees fall gently to the water, romantic piano chords turning slowly on the surface; more performance art with plans for education and...
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- 748 reads
I Now Forget
Silk sleep and milk deep softness rest in feather down slumber as finger reach and rest on wanted skin. Eyes in mine are falling through the end of years
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- 1073 reads
The Art of Love
Rest In sweet naked slumber, Gentle and pure, While I, enraptured, Paint my life Across your perfect frame. Eyes closed
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- 1086 reads
Coming Out: Lina
The first family member to truly know me... aunt Lina
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- 818 reads
C) What are you not thinking of&;#063;
Dave and I might as well be robots as we stuff salad bags to the back of the shelf: all that matters is the sell-by date: ROTATE ROTATE nag posters...
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- 1027 reads
I'm trying to think of...
Exercise - re-edited
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- 1074 reads
Sick Computer, The
with apologies to Wm Blake
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- 919 reads
Q... Night
There's a wall around my bed. You can't see it, but it's there. I can feel it in my bones. I could burst through if I wanted to And run to Mummy But...
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- 865 reads
B: THE SWORDFISH AND SHAVE
Beat one of Pacific and Maple
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- 2261 reads
Shoes in a Cupboard
A poem about bereavement
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- 559 reads
Managed Retreat
poem about the tide
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- 586 reads