Life & Stuff, Poetry

Self-Isolation (poem)

Somehow Spring has raised its glorious head,and yet the world must watchthrough dirty glass.Trapped - a barrier between usand the new green world outside.I weep. A grand plague has reached itsskeletal black hand to our throats.A virus born from nothing -We were not prepared.We are not prepared.Selfish sisters and brutish brotherstake to the shelves and… Continue reading Self-Isolation (poem)

Poetry

Copacabana NY (poem)

Underground space always alive. Awake. Laughter, clinking glasses, dancing heels the song of the sax chant of the cello pull of the piano. Each ever-moving body is clad, head to toe, in golds and silvers twinkling like stars, at night with every jig. Suit and tie are mandatory, here.   Mystery is kept by smoky… Continue reading Copacabana NY (poem)

Poetry

Broken Compass (poem)

Lost and uncertain The space between a forgotten past and an elusive future grows. Thickens. Stretching across the black sea I'm surrounded. My boat drifts along the endless landscape of time. My clock, ticks. Is it this way, or that?   I've long been alone, here. Broken compass shifts, with each passing tide. Am I… Continue reading Broken Compass (poem)

Poetry

The Ache of Knowing (poem)

It is a horrid thing. Knowing the exact weight of choice. Knowing, from here, you fly or you fall. This is it.   Loud are the opinions, the "advice" and judgement of others. Tip-toe ahead... or leap? from the cliffside Will wings grow as I fall? It hurts to be so aware.   And it's… Continue reading The Ache of Knowing (poem)

Poetry

Money (Poem)

Phantom puppet master, Plays his paper fiddle. The game of life’s endless, Cruel impossible riddle.   Echoic vault slams shut, Tears stain their face. Prison bars of iron, We’re far from Grace.   Borrow, barter, beg, Peter’s wallet. Paul’s purse. Save, swindle, swap, We called upon the curse.   Darkness with monsters deep, Abyss, oh… Continue reading Money (Poem)

Life & Stuff, Poetry

Avant-garde (poem)

Avant-garde: I’ve never really been one to do things the right way. The normal way. No. I break rules, not because I’m a rebel but because the rules just don’t suit me. Is that wrong? I’m sorry. I’ve always been so sorry, for being this way. But not anymore. I can’t keep apologising for feeling… Continue reading Avant-garde (poem)

Life & Stuff, Poetry

New Woman (poem)

With all the new things that have happened to me, and the new clothes, new friends, new situations, I feel like I'm becoming a new woman, hence this poem...   New Woman Who knew that a person could gain a new coat of paint? And that this paint had the power to change everything? Clad… Continue reading New Woman (poem)