You made me slow down, be more present. The to-do list will always be there – ever-growing. Just like you. Emails, ironing and organising can wait. Before long you’ll be crawling, running, leaving. I think I’ll just sit here, in the morning winter sun, with you lazily feeding, enjoying this moment. There’ll come a day…
Tag: poetry
The Joker
The Joker In they come from the rain. Dripping, adjusting, furrowed brows softening. Peeling off layers, rearranging, shaking heads of fluffy hair. In they come from the rain. Water puddles, hoods dribble, wallets found – menus coveted. In they come from the rain. Pints in hand, orders placed. To the warmth of The Joker, in…
A Sestina for “Matthew”*
I never met a man who was quite so confident in himself. The way he took charge of me shrouded his deep insecurity. Yet lying in the hotel bed, I lay with a man full of hurt, who believed life had not been kind to him and it had made him hard. Reader, he divulged…
I Lie in Bed
I lie in bed thinking of what I’m yet to remember and what I’m still to forget. What memories are bound to be laid down? Which events will come and go and who, who else will feature in the story of my life? Will this person make their mark? Will they be a protagonist or…
Battlefield
The battlefield behind you
tells not of bloodied corpses
but of poppies;
each poppy a lesson learnt
from a romance
or a dalliance.
To navigate this war zone
you’ve used intuition and strategy –
Those Chaotic Twenties…
Those chaotic twenties,characterised by comparison and rumination;when career successes brush up against career panics.And Saturday night’s laughter shape-shifts into Sunday’s regret;as frivolous explorationtransforms into “unbecoming behaviour”.Through which independence beckonsand financial demands loom,yet childhood lurks behind our shoulders.But those chaotic twenties,as love, desire and passion are no longer entrenched in shame.And we approach our thirties a…
Bruises
Trigger warning: rough sex (consensual but rough) It wasn’t long before the blood rose to the surface. A red slash on my hipfrom the crack of the whipwas the first to appear. Next came the speckled purple and blueon my boob, slapped by you. How would my cheek react? Hands around my throatmaking me chokeas…
Oceans
Your voice envelopes me across oceans. Letters on the page transcribe a deeper intimacy and the confidence with which you speak rouses me down the telephone line. And I feel like I’ve known you for years. Photo by Sithamshu Manoj on Unsplash
The Silent Couple
The silent couple sits shuffling in their chairs whilst the waiters bustle around. Their phones faced down, threatening to disrupt the silence. Then the vibration beckons. With a quick flip of the phone, a stolen look at the screen and an internal relief that there’s something to focus on. When the food comes shoulders relax…
60 Years
In the space of 20 minutes I saw 60 years. I lived through two marriages, two divorces, and then, strangely, our break up. Slipping in and out of consciousness, the present seemed out of reach. Grasping onto it for three minutes only for the inevitable slip, slip, slip away to wash over me. Fear embodied…
Still Searching for Prince Charming 