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Elk Vale
The winds blew more ferociously, Oren drew his sword and readied himself. The stranger put up his hand and darted forward.
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- 393 reads
Loving You (free verse)
A brief poem about first love.
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- 2 comments
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- 1665 reads
Good shoes
I spray paint my account number and sort code on the bridge by the railway station
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- 1130 reads
Paperbacks
We know where the wireless hotspots are
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- 1 comment
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- 1384 reads
The Chair
An ugly piece Of furniture, Stuffed with wonderful Memories
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- 4 comments
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- 2292 reads
Miss H
Deep within the troubled sou; underneath the toughend skin; far beyond the frozen glare; down beneath the wretched smile;
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- 964 reads
Dreamy
Dozing off, Realms visited whilst I strolled, Every sensation, more real than this, Amazed by the hum of distant voices, Must be him, Yesterday, the hum getting so loud,
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- 597 reads
Paris
Part of this city should be called kisses, Amorous couples wrapped up in bliss, Romance is mushrooming, Is it a full moon? Softly let him kiss you.
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- 1 comment
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- 786 reads
Sammy Davis
So he could sizzle, Amazing the audience with one glittering glide, Mesmerized by the toe-tapping trail blazer, Making a clear impression of Cary Grant,
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- 641 reads
Psychedelic
Piece of Picasso’s proud face Smiling at an unknown village woman, wobbling with mangoes, Yellow flowers whirl around the hem of a fifties circle skirt,
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- 2 comments
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- 899 reads
Death of a Bird
Waiting to pounce hidden discreetly The sleek black cat crouches Moving not a muscle Watching intently Suddenly It springs The victim has been chosen An unsuspecting bird.
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- 1 comment
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- 609 reads
February
The world is angled in black and white. I long for the soft curves of spring and all its shapely colours, blooming like a fist unclenched.
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- 13 comments
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- 5733 reads
Footprints
We turn and see our footsteps curving back. Our every step recorded by damp sand. This empty beach acquires a memory. But, history is never straightforward.
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- 1423 reads
Ranch waitress
Ranch waitress, ham fisted men have dreamed of you fingering yourself in the bathroom; they tell you in mornings when the day is banana bread. Give me your kidney, no, your knickers,
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- 866 reads
Dear Mathil
Dear Mathil, I am writing to give you a picture of where my head lives. over the bar hangs a solid gold moon which winks like an eyeball as I turn in my cycles.
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- 957 reads
Gabriel
Tears began to form in Gabriel's eyes as he remembered Heloise. He had been in so much pain back then, trying to prove himself. Why had it been so important that he prove himself to women?
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- 1137 reads
Silence
Silence In this clattering city, where the head swirls in the constant surf of sound – raised voices, the hollow rattle of heels on escalators, car-horns clamouring in demented chorus -
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- 1 comment
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- 854 reads
From Po Wah Yuen
From Po Wah Yuen On the other side of the world, on the other side of the day my black-haired love is sleeping. In a city without a name, in a house without a number
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- 754 reads
In the dark on the end of the line
In the dark on the end of the line my woman is softly sobbing, like a child lost alone in darkness, wounded and comfortless. I have cut her with my casual anger and cannot withdraw the words,
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- 602 reads