My expression is through words arranged According to the senses A
jumble of emotions Untangled and relentless. My mind is soothed when on
the page A poem gives release When God has been, wiped my slate
clean And love fills me with peace.
I scream and my face goes red like a strawberry
I scream and my temper turns hotter than chocolate
I scream and I look as fierce as a gorilla
I melt when I eat vanilla ice cream
Simply Life As It Should Be
Summer time 1997
BLUSH (Diary of a woman who flushes with blushes)
Spontaneously combust when I blush. My English rose colour magnified by
your insensitivity. Frigidness of adolescence. Vulnerability of young
ladyship. Hormonal motherhood. Stumbling around forever blushing.
Palest, sweetest, most perfect pink fluid Warming my veins. Heart
race, soft pulse.
Enter impostor Magnifying my flush. A thermal rise Rage red,
burning, pelting, pumping pressure Desperately expanding my
arteries, Thumping and screeching Hounding my veins. Hysterical
overflow. Volcanic response. Erupt.
I die a thousand times and are reborn a thousand times more.
The Glass House
A beautiful glass house effortlessly presented With its complex
simplicity So perfectly minimal. A contradiction in texture From soft
granular sand To a refined strength so desperately fragile. Like
happiness So exhibitly significant.
I see into The Glass House So apparently transparent But through the
transparency My vision is refracted Your reflection is only my
reflection. I don’t reach out quite far enough And my reflection doesn’t
quite reach back to me. I try and touch you but you are not there Just a
fragile glass house Protecting a beautiful prism.
No time to write No time to think No time on my hands No watch on
my wrist No clock No tick No tock And yet….. Millennium will
come and pass As Father Time with looking glass Will smile….. The
dial will tell of miles covered Styles hurdled Files filled Of time
passed through the looking glass Through time Down the line Clocks
chime Tick Tock STOP
Nothingness And then time goes on alone No time to start again So…
make time your friend.
Hollow observer A study of who, what and why Sure but unaggressive,
Stimulating in silence Being the picture without trying Naturally
filling the original mould Stimulating in onlookers minds Eyes weighing,
wondering Flirting without eye conscious contact Knowing they’re
watching Relying on that extra sense Out of bounds, not
important Vibes are not bound to the gender It isn’t caged into
boundaries It escapes into the everywhere
Precious diamonds of life. Teardrops of the most crystal clear
water Evaporating in winter sun Whilst waiting to experience the
never. Distracted and captured by inspirations new. Forgetting anything
which we had waited for And never came. Kaleidoscopic
dreams. Enticing me to reach out and feel. Always capturing and
bewitching and enchanting And ever-changing. Like rainbow crystals of
light playing on diamonds.
The Journey of the Crow
I lay out my bread in the hope that you won’t return to your carcass
instincts. I understand not your scrawny calling, only the chilling of your
silence. In twos and threes you show your darkest power, Ruling your
territory in possessive flight. Your black garb haunting the emptiness of
space. Assembling from nowhere in groups of fifty Your overwhelming
squawking closes in on your victim’s ears. Ordering. Terrorising them
in frenzies down from the trees where they belong Gang warfare of the
skies. I can not imagine what is worse, Crow of night camouflaged or
crow of day possessing. In solace poised high on your watch tower, your
cold stillness surveys. Your burning eyes mutate beady black and
prosecuting. You do not lie, you do not pretend, you are just how we
perceive you As black as your body, as dark as your eyes As solitary and
as manifest as we know you. You are a doorway to the other side, visible in
all your faces, like a messenger of fate. To Halloween you belong.
The ultimate raucous familiar. In flight you are as sinister as rats with
wings, Frayed tattered wings tipped upwards, like fingers in desperation
clawing Your bigger than kitten body rests in maniacal flapping Like the
ovation clapping of a master play. Still and precise in movement, slow and
direct in journey Tripping us in your patience, waiting for us to fall,
wicked why you wait. I lay out my bread in the hope that you won’t return
to your carcass instincts. In denial you are the epitome of beauty,
defined, deep, and sultry Out of denial you are only true to
yourself Sinister and beautiful evermore.
The land of Oz
The most prettiest and most rugged creature Ever have I kissed.
A world of sincerity Abundance of love.
"If only all the world were as hedonistic” As the land of Oz. I
A bitter empty night Waiting for winter to determine the vagrant’s
fate. Eternal dampness of the gutter kings life On silent streets a part
is played And passers by look on dismayed. And in the distance we hear a
bard Singing to the stench of urine Playing on a poor mans harp The
nonchalant notes of the vagrant’s heart. Chestnuts smoking in the
wind Their smell grounds in thought of olde London Foggy cobbled streets
glittering with rain Cart horse hoofs echoing around alley
walls Silhouettes lingering in the damp lamplight. Tender feel the moon
spun shadows Quavering in the brink of night Dusk has done, dawn will
come A still vast nothingness all around A bitter empty night Waiting
for winter to determine the vagrant’s fate.
A disguise is a schitzophrenic It can either be elusive Or it can be
an informal barricade For true emotions Either way a disguise has to be
accepted And if not accepted How do we recognize a disguise?
Life at Bardys
Through bricks so thick and wooden doors And walls of which lay more
then four Through carpet soft of which we roam Please may God bless our
home sweet home
Crazy paving on the wall Slippers under wooden stool Patch work rugs
with shades of deep Pillows lie on floor and seat
Caressing warmth and air so fine Rocking birds they sweetly
chime Steel and copper, wood and stone A glowing red makes cosy home
Ashes bedded on cold ground Heating all till safe and sound Glowing
warmly, floating free Invisible flames fly hauntingly
Papers scattered round the room Straw sweeps wildly from a
broom Baskets hanging round the beams Flowers lacing in their seems
Sleepy eyes so desperately Stay awake to vaguely see A welcome
cottage in the quiet With love and warmth, we say goodnight