For all it's worth

I stand beside the entrance, and stare my way through, the scene is enlightening, but too thorough and blue, i'm hungry to be made, my engine soon to burst, I quench when I smell you,

sticks and stones:survivor

a poem i wrote about bullying

There’s still water in the well

The old prophets have a story, that they still wish to tell. Death doesn’t broker silence, there’s still water in the well.

names will never hurt me

a story about bullying
Cherry

Welcome To The Magnet

This is a poem about a club I went to in Liverpool that stayed open till five in the morning. It was frigging grim.

In Midnight Rain

Written at work. Entire haiku Piece: Weak lips, jello legs Tumbling with parasol Faltering through streets

Day 10 - Shells

A crack like splintering bone, the dust-whiff, like I've blown the age off an old book, and liberated contents emptied, paper skins sticking in my throat.

“I read a book of Rumi’s poems almost seven years ago”

“I read a book of Rumi’s poems almost seven years ago” I think of Rumi’s bird regularly, and have written about it occasionally; the last time I wrote about it, I was fooled.

That Pause of Mercy

....

My friend Jesus, final part

YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED OVER THE LAST FEW WEEKS!!!!!!

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