love
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The Lazy Cupid
The Lazy Cupid If IPicked you upSomeLoveAt the cornerStore,Where would you put it? TogetherWith theGraves of daisiesYou saw –Your heart skippedAnd decidedTo uproot them? Nudged betweenThe books of poems,Pigeon feathers –Too pretty for the sidewalk;In the braille that you read toSoothe them? SlippedBetween the crumbsAnd crawlsOf day old bread,Wrapped in tinfoil,TuckedTo the back of the… Continue reading
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Queries from the Kitchen – NaPo day #25
Queries from the Kitchen If you were abaker, aproned and cheeks plumpwith flour,plucking from the red dough,pinching the shapes of heartswith no molds,gently pressing betweenthe palmsthen running up the edges with wetfingers and youmake one, and for some reasonthat one is mineand instead of putting me on the baking traywith the rest of the powdered… Continue reading
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Archetypes in Hollandaise sauce – NaPo day #15
Archetypes in Hollandaise sauce a girl is never too busy to plan an outfit,red ruby slippers sticking outfrom underneath the carpet,there are mornings that make breakfastsunlovable and angels unkind,when crooked halos nest into the moon’sovercoats:make the devils profit on kindness,the crinoline cakes in snow and powdered sugar,the girl a counterweight of stars,the girl a speck… Continue reading
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Evening conversations – NaPo day #2
Evening conversations White noise vigorously shaken over a splitting ache.Wide eyes, rolled up sleeves, sitting cross-legged on the carpet.The pick-me cakes with ornamental creamy dresses winking from behind the glass.A tiny, hungry organ scurrying the grass.A mock-up quiet house, constructed from sorbet.An over-achieving bee delivering New Age sanctimonies, through the dark.Nana’s squad of demolition experts.Wealthy… Continue reading
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What the rhubarb said
*Image found HERE What the rhubarb said Love is like a pineapple; it eats you back.Never overfill your rucksack.You are prone to both accidents and wanderings.Lucky number? Always 5.Avoid calling back home on Thursdays.Exfoliate. Season everything with lemons.Have a river picnic; bake pies.Do not seek the truth, do not seek the lies. Continue reading
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Technicolour
Technicolour On the paintingsthe girls they tiptoeto strip down the silvers,wider shins and waningaround their legs and arms; the ravens caw; the boys swallow the Sun,pick it like snacks,bejewel their veinsand sleep in its golden slit –How unlikely is the mythof my Nature and my Nurture,clad,in the bosom of a knot –in the vertebrae,nesting,like an… Continue reading
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Writing love poems in the back of my step-mothers agenda
*image found HERE Writing love poems in the back of my step-mothers agenda Dim kitchen lights seep out to explore the world while it still exists; the leaves of the garden trees are wearing the streetlights like wedding dresses: (and I confess.) In the dark blue above one could dip a finger and stir; connect… Continue reading
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The Wanton Silk
*Image found HERE The Wanton Silk Concern eats away at me; We fumble down the loom for space. With no laundry line between everything and nothing, my hair wants to sprawl on your sun-lit bed like piss does on snow. In the cross-hair the Aquarian shakes with the pitcher; it rains in droves,… Continue reading
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Letters to The Wizard in the Lights
*image found HERE Letters to The Wizard in the Lights My hellish retribution, I strive to give you meanings and laurel you like a jackal does to a steak he is about to sink his teeth in yet I fear that what once was so young of me is no more and the marigolds have… Continue reading
About Me
I don’t mind the sun sometimes,
the images it shows,
I can taste you on my lips
and feel you in my clothes.
Cinnamon and sugary
and softly spoken lies,
you never know just how you look
through other people’s eyes
Newsletter
Recent Comments
We all go back to sand in the end. I like the word play in this.
Thank you so much for reading and for the heartfelt comment, I always love when my poems are likened to…
I think we do remember, in both instances, just that sometimes the fearful ones are remembered perhaps without our will…
Thank you so much, I am glad someone else can remember their first mango, or any other fruit really. I…
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Color me in Cyanide and Cherry 
Thank you, and indeed we do.