my poems are mostly unfinished. i leave the words out on the washing line to dry and come back to them a few weeks later. sometimes i leave them hanging there. to be taken by the wind. sghRead more "[words on the washing line]"
her mind drifts with the tide. storms in and trails out, back to the beginning. floats upwards like a kite, flutters through blusters of wind. sometimes i find her crashing at the days end. other times she soars on rooftops, not a cloud in sight. you can’t trace her, you’ve tried. you won’t know what […]Read more "[mind on the sky]"
evenings in mid-june coming to a close. confessions from midsomer murders hum into the whispers of nine o clock. mum is asleep on the sofa, stray hairs from her blonde fringe jump up happily to the sighs of the window gaping. forgotten to shut. apple pie left out on the side. the custard carton sliced […]Read more "[evenings in mid-june]"
believe in tomorrow and good people with kind smiles called toby or lily and their blonde dog. place your faith in shoe polish and homemade pasta bake. take a trip to a beach with messy sand dunes and rocky shores. watch the tide come in and then, watch it go out. favour tartan. lose yourself […]Read more "[good people]"
that morning i sauntered into the sun as it spilled on to the street. i skipped past the transparent blotches on the cobblestones like puddles on the table from the water jug over breakfast. i looked up. the sky was a beauty that morning. a newborn baby. flickering waves on the water. airplane clouds ahead. […]Read more "[describing the happiness of that morning]"
these first signs of spring opening me up from the inside out. I haven’t shown these parts to anyone in a long time. sghRead more "[first signs of spring]"