Gold cherry

Crossing my mind

New blood needs help with his work. I bend over beside him, experiencing guilt and lust on a loop...

Autumn Reflections

This season is full of secret hints: of mustard spiced tints, Which wrestle between the steps of rusted slow-dancing. It is a secret, sacred space, where the night fingers of crows,

2 Aphorisms

I have gone from believing that I am the center of the universe to believing that the universe is the center of me.

A Poor Innings (Second Draft)

Indifferent, black, Gliding through gates, The mayor’s car passing Parents late, Direct towards where the ‘Debate’ was taking place. One paused and glanced at The mounting heap of

Hard To Say

I hung my coat upon the chair, As if to say I didn't care. You held your bowed head in your hands, As if to say, who understands? I turned the light off, climbed into bed,

Re-visiting Jack

What did you die for, Jack? I ask as I sit myself at your grave-side to rest my aches and pains Liberated from meter (almost) - I may have finished tweaking, for now!

Remains To Be Seen

A life beyond death, a linger on cold lit breath There is always room, in the vacuous tomb. Pickled, Tinned, Sealed and Shut join Them. Mouldy, Oldie, out of choices way

Babies, Challenges, Dogs

Boris had just returned home from the gym when the call came; his wife was in labour.

The XYZ formula of cool

“…..it’s sort of ironic kitsch,” she said, “he’s even got a spinning mirror ball,” and then she giggled and added as an afterthought, “on his bedroom ceiling.”

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