Scripted Daydreams Eyelids left dusted by darkness, weighed down by the echoes of dreams in my head- she’d been writing a poem while I was asleep: I ask her to read it back to me, but I open my eyes and she’s gone. Aching muscles want to stay cosy, the peace of my… Continue reading Poetry: my brain’s core and a namesake
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Poetry: what my heart has to say
8 months Some days it feels like you’ve never been gone. Closed eyes take me to yesterday and you are there your colours shining so brightly your laughter filling the room and the sound of my name called with a beaming smile filling my heart life bursting from you your energy radiant and inescapably… Continue reading Poetry: what my heart has to say
Poetry: modern culture and a story of corruption
Peaches Untouched flesh Soft and gentle and yet to be bruised, like a ripening peach. She is not weak, but she is vulnerable. The allure of the peaches they cannot escape- the creatures that come to corrupt. They sense it and quietly, slowly, they come, creep, multiply. Creeping they come to invade the… Continue reading Poetry: modern culture and a story of corruption
Poetry: a modern sonnet
Wire A budding flower choked by tensile wire The beauty of a heart’s discordant ache Dark eyes pull me to run through open fire Eternal wounds: a path I always take Your touch brings heat that scorches, stains my skin On fragile parchment, scars you gently paint Tiptoed tightrope I walk, as air… Continue reading Poetry: a modern sonnet
