“Forest Path in the Ardennes” by *rboed* is licensed under CC BY 2.0. So I stood at the gates of Atlantis, But no longer did I want to go in, For through life’s labours, its many chambers of sin, I took my pleasure as though it was fair practice; Repetitions for the Heavenly second life, The fey promises to begin. . . Riven by modern … Continue reading Our last days
I stretch and crack, as the world bends round, mountains and crevices fall. I languish and cry, as locusts explore, upon my skin they crawl. I bend and knot, as the breeze pierces flesh, itchy, numb, and right. I release, a jolt at shutter speed, caught by a nearby mite. I twist and flex, as I’m watched by a crow, rising to praise the dawn. … Continue reading Lotus Position
PrefaceThere was a certain song performed in a film from long ago, one that states what a boon it was to be an Englishman at the dawn of the Edwardian Age. In this so-called ‘Age of Men’, what was ever said of the women? For this reason, it was believed something should be written about the ‘provincial scenery’. That is, the women of Britain who, … Continue reading Provincial Scenery
I yearn for my body to feel like home having lived in it more than two decades It feels like an apartment I can’t stop renting I love it yet I can’t limit my hate The walls are soaked in my failures and the paint is the colour of my victories It hasn’t even been three decades yet? and I feel like I’ve been trapped … Continue reading Home
Where does one begin, I tell you at the start! How well I knew the days and nights in such a tender way —something unfamiliar come, with sudden dray. A dreary conception or a phantom afterthought, I was mid between the lines, when my Eleanor was caught. Caught by my affection, caught where hearts proceed to form, and bond between the heaven’s angels and the … Continue reading a sea that housed her heart
I finally left home, A realm of pitchforks and nightmares, For a far-away place, A land down under. Still violence lingered, Yet I dared to dream, Learned to sing and dance, To defy and rebel. ‘You don’t belong here!’ A stranger hissed, When asked ‘Why?’ he said, ‘Go back to where you came from.’ Where did I come from? Not meant to belong, Will I … Continue reading A place to call home
before you died you asked if mobile phones and mugs of water could conjure swarms of bees you said you’d seen it happen and to reproduce your findings you lodged ceramic in the walls Pliny the Elder too believed bees were born immaculately rising from the bodies of slaughtered calves and I wonder if neo-neo-classicists will prove Pliny right with the discovery of Astomi ——those … Continue reading you had your first psychotic break at seventeen
Sometimes I feel like I have no core and instead of the normal things, the human things, like happiness and comfort, understanding and growth, that cavity inside my chest is just filled with tears and hurt and fear and anger, and every word that someone has ever said to me. Sometimes the words are nice, Sometimes, feeling coreless is nice. No complexities, just a numb … Continue reading Core of Me
Spring is the time for blooming, but my petals remain furled. The media is constantly proving, I don’t fit the norms of this world. It’s all about your sex appeal, and who you’re gonna date. The pressure to conform is real, when the norm is to be straight. ‘I’m just a late bloomer,’ I think, after another year alone. Perhaps a visit to the shrink? … Continue reading Late Bloomer
Image: From Pixabay, thanks to JDGRAPHICS63 after Joan Miró & Surrealism Us, like Miró, spearing any stick-in-the-brush with a dance that won’t be classified. Rhythms and other elements of days fake familiarity. Only the birds hang upside down or float with ink-dipped feathers— carousels— in brilliant fields of blue blood. We’re clay forms sculpted to pillows by night: our faces hieroglyphs on a vase, with … Continue reading Us, in Element
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