girls and their nonsense.
floating in that acrid pool of nothingness,
a feather kissed the tip of my nose and whispered softly over my face.
in that moment, decided.
i watch the village of women who surround me each day,
awash with a soft awe at their mossy eyes and woolen hands.
i link arms with the girl i love most on a late night walk,
running from the boy who asked me to give apart of myself.
...
Monday 20th June 2022 3:08 pm
parties are the end of the world.
ive been invited to a party this saturday.
i think i will go,
i think i will get as drunk as i can.
to feel the painful crushing weight of the sunday hangover.
im going to act as if i am in a french film.
i will tell each person a different lie,
tell them something i've made up about myself.
these people dont know me.
dont know me at all.
but whats more lik...
Thursday 2nd June 2022 11:09 pm
I AM! I AM! I AM!
charcoal toothpaste.
teeth whitening strips.
water on a bathroom floor muddied with muttered songs.
cans of who and why on a windowsill.
forehead sweat. made to stick fringes.
quick to anger. founded in a parent not so unlike.
jerking awake. jolting asleep. comfort nul.
calm mornings when the sun alarms.
evil feelings when green and yellow lie dormant.
stuttered uttered eye contac...
Saturday 28th May 2022 10:26 pm
Affirmations for my mother
You are a woman,
beautiful,
black,
God’s masterpiece,
created with
majestic power
and divinity—
The type of woman
who could never
be tamed
or possessed.
One deserving of
love, respect,
and civility.
Saturday 30th October 2021 3:47 am
It's good to be a woman
It's good to be a woman at 30 years old.
You can even ask for vodka to be cold.
At thirty you have something to surprise,
And see the excitement in his eyes.
When you are forty he nervously trembles.
Hundred-year old man with Viagra gambles.
It's good to be a woman at the age of fifty
Climax has already passed, you are shifty.
It's good to be a woman at the age of sixty.
...Sunday 21st April 2019 6:34 pm
Womanhood
I.
How does a girl become a woman?
The first time her royal blue skirt
Was stained with drops of blood
Tainted childhood's innocence
Of fertility's awakening.
Rules had chained her feet from crossing
The bridge towards a boy playing
His piece in a saxophone
Lullabies of attraction
A petty love from the ashes of lust.
Chains rang as she heavily walked
Up the stairs of her fantasies
...
Sunday 10th September 2017 3:33 pm
Recent Comments
Carol Congalton on A passion for spiders my lad had.
47 minutes ago
Carol Congalton on To Dream Again...
52 minutes ago
keith jeffries on Magic Wand
2 hours ago
keith jeffries on reminiscing
2 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Ensnared.
2 hours ago
Bryony Partridge on Dry eyes in the house
3 hours ago
julie callaghan on The MPs Big Bro Show
7 hours ago
Nigel Astell on Nigel Astell
7 hours ago
Nigel Astell on Conquered
7 hours ago
Nigel Astell on Garden of sleep
7 hours ago