i’m cold.
something rattles my bones.
a dreary loo stirs the leaves outside, as they lay still:
as if defying the laws of physics themselves,
but more particularly – defying me,
defying my hard-held, unearned belief in my sanity. (….) … More pain is a cockroach
my heart is a little less neruda, a little more cummings today
there is no space for words or punctuation to breathe
for your absence has carved its wreath so large
apostrophes and periods struggle to find their way in
and I, to find a way to breathe without breathing you in … More missing (heart)
I want to take my broken toe and scratchy eye
And hang them out to dry
On the leaves of the peepul tree outside my street (….)
I think I may have figured life out
Long summer, afternoons – a gentle balmy breeze
Two cups of too-sweet cola
You – and me. (….) … More But first, a siesta
Shuffling feet and sweaty ribs mark the beginning of these days
Shifty eyes and swollen cheeks, the end.
You have seen my love in grand forms
Watched me fall, die, resurrect
Clutching the broken pieces of my heart
in my throat: like shards of broken hurt,
smarting with each gasp. (…) … More Meditation
N.B.: I see this more like lyrics to a song than a poem. If only I could write music, because I have a tune in my head I hum this to. … More Yuletide
There’s a rumour that every once in a while, the earth ceases to turn. Every person, every building, every forest ceases to exist as anything more than a painting. The wind stops, the sun dims. The silence grows stale, without the endless whirring of a billion minds, day after day after day after tiring day. … More Deep Water, Stay Under
They always say the walls are supposed to close in. ‘The walls are closing in’. For me, the walls never did close in. Every room, instead, expands into nothingness as I stretch out my hand, trying to find a trace of you. A lingering smell in the clothes that you wore that lie unwashed, a … More Semi tabellio prima
I wonder what you would do
if I told you
your dreams are useless, doomed to failure
your love is unrequited, a false trap, a lure
your happiness is false, transient like bubbles
your mornings full of sunshine, trouble
will turn to evenings full of longing
unfulfilled, unhappy, tragic, wronging
like the setting sun, miserable in muddy brown
your age, so invincible (now), will let you down
your mind will betray you, have you talking blabber
the ghosts of your loneliness will soon gather,
celebrate your funeral within
years before your innards decay, soaked in sin.
Would you crumble into a pile
fall, look at me with glazed eyes
or would you fight (for) me, punch me down
kiss me goodnight, with hope in your mouth?
For I’m Portia, my love
and all the caskets have death written unto them –
but the bronze one has hope, perhaps a new dawn
and so we live on
and so we live on. … More Shakes-a-pear
(I’m in a phase of crippling writer’s block – hence the absence of writing – and it has been a while. I have accepted that I don’t know if it will ever go away. On this blog, I hardly ever post anything that I don’t like, but I’m going to let go of that rule … More Merde de cheval
Inside of Love 