Forbidden Fruit (2010)

Poetry and scribblings for musing and abusing.

Poem of the week

Back of my hand

Back of my hand (9th June, 2010) I wrote your name on the back of my hand with eyeliner, so I wouldn’t forget; you know how I am; memory lane twists and turns, if only I hadn’t learnt the

Bitter Taste

Burning to tell, but I can't let myself speak...


Oops! Inspired by 'simonbarget' and his title!

Divided Ground

Divided Ground (6th July, 2010) United we sit, to observers visually sound; Divided we will fall on this unsteady ground. You’re rising up, loud and proud, to make a stand,

Familiar Stars

Familiar Stars (3rd July, 2010) Here I am in the same small town, Staring up at familiar stars, Dreaming of all the days gone down, Wondering why they did not last.


Figurine (28th August, 2010) Captured in glass, I am art: timeless, wrought. They fired the sand and liquid made, then froze in place my beautiful, transparent gaze.

I.P. The Astonishing Saint

I.P. The Astonishing Saint (31st July, 2010) Did you ever chance to see her? Saint Christina? She was a hermit with a permit from God To be quite strange; in the cottage by the lake

I.P. White rose, Dark stain

I. P. – White rose, Dark stain (29th July, 2010) In like a bulldozer, Out like a hurricane. The path you carve, chaos in your wake, The bees you stir, the china you break.


Increation (11th August, 2010) I cannot shape my destiny with stories or bring you to existence with a rhyme, I cannot create the perfect lead or foil,
Poem of the week

Keys to my heart

Keys to my heart (13th December, 2010) And her face was awash with the stars, Twinkling, twinkling on her wet cheeks Like diamond dust, how morning frost

Scene Obscene (song lyrics)

Got the syllable counts for the rhythm on, hence the numbers!

Speak my truth

Speak my truth (7th November, 2010) Strange, the things we learn through other people’s eyes: We reflect each new-lived moment of our lives

Spring Fever

Spring Fever (7th April, 2010) Sun presses prying fingers in my eyes; ‘Wake, and find the winter is slain’ she cries; her voice resounds high, like a banshee wails,


Tarantella (11th February, 2010, 9.28pm) Forbidden fingers trace the spider’s web; caught, wings entangled, dangling on a thread of hope in frosty air. Wave tentative legs, teeth

The Space Between

The Space Between (20th December, 2010) Here I am, caught in the space between Sleep and awake, reality and dream, I drift, lonely snowflake, from room to room


Whispersin (11th June, 2010) This is the voice that you cannot hear if you’re listening to God, isn’t that right, My dear? These are the thoughts that good girls don’t have,