Wednesday 3 April 2019

Puberty Edvard Munch


The young girl sits
on the cusp of 14
on chaste sheets
consecrated and white
her doe eyes widen
she doesn't know yet
but she is the one
to sanctify you

You notice
The divine curve
of her almost breasts
the innocence
she covers up
with dainty hands
and bitten nails
You're overcome

You wonder
if her skin
would feel like fire
the way she burns
under your gaze
which she holds
a small smile shows
she's nervous

And a part of you
would like to
pull her close
clothe her
tuck her into those sheets
to read her a story
a tale of men
and of lust

But inner demons
rear their ugly heads
black shadows
that speak in tongues
telling you
her flesh will taste
like the sweetest peach
on your lips

A gutteral groan
escapes you
and hangs in the air
she giggles
and the sound rings
like a choir
you cling to
your pious hope

You know
you will be the shadow
that fights to keep
her virtue
that you hold as
And though
you crave to take it

It doesn't belong
to you.

Saturday 10 June 2017


"Unlearning is not reframing or refreezing or something along that lines. They all focus on an end state whereas unlearning is about moving away from something rather than moving towards something. So unlearning is exactly what it says. Intending to let go of what we have already learned or acquired." - MITHYA institute for Knowledge and Learning.

I used to know 
how to bleed
words to paper
blood to bed sheets
I would scream
like a newborn
arms raised
unable to hold
the world

I used to know
how to love
holding roses ,
ignoring the thorns,
my fingers in ribbons 
smiling quietly
hiding rotten teeth
behind lips
that tell lies

I used to know
how to dream
of a world
beyond the nib
of a pen 
where princesses
save themselves
in ways 
I've forgotten now,

I've forgotten how.

Monday 21 March 2016


halves of
a torn photograph
from the day
at the beach
sand as coarse
as the quiet
we lay
along our spines

you were
a reflection
of everything
I wanted to be
a dream

and I
the shadow
of all
you feared
and real.

Wednesday 24 February 2016

Wishful thinking

"You can close your eyes to reality, but not to memories" - Stanizlaw Jerzy Lec

That stolen night
it was bitter
we sat 
in unreality
your head 
on my shoulder
and for once
it was okay
we were messes
clutching normality
lacking morality
and living
our undeserved

Friday 5 February 2016

A Novel Romance

I thought of you today
a simple flicker
like a breeze
on the pages
of a well thumbed book
and in an instant
page 14
the familiar graze
of lips on neck
page 60
clammy, nervous fingers
entwined and shaking
page 132
dinner, laughter
page 176
after another
pointless war
page 201
When I finally wiped
from my mind
page 5
the night you
first said
I love you
not realising on
page 180
you'd realise what
love was
and decide on
page 181
that we didn't have it.

Tuesday 17 November 2015

The hard nights

She had forgotten
the thud
of unwanted thoughts
and clattering
of forgotten memories
imprisoned wails
escape her lips
and a tear
finds it's path
over oily skin,
She regresses
Clutching hands
over her chest
foetal on
virtuous sheets
in sweet blackness
promise the end
encourage light
she can't see
further than
the end
of her nose.

Saturday 31 October 2015

Autumn leaves

You changed
so slowly
from an envious green
with life in your veins
to walking away
fleeting yellow
kicking leaves up
as though problems
could be lost
in the crisp gold
I didn't feel
the bitter cold
I didn't try to pull
my coat close
or twirl a scarf
around my neck
until the morning
my fingers turned blue
and the leaves
were sodden
with rain
and trodden
into cracks
in the pavement
reminding me,
under grey skies,

Autumn leaves.