Raise high the roofbeams
and taint the swill as best you can
on her breath hangs wormwood
and we can’t disappoint her, can we boys
can’t say fuck all asides would that we wood
hoping her pounded down bones
may raise our own.
haikus for lovers: part 5
haikus for lovers: part 4
haikus for lovers: part 3
haikus for lovers: part 2
haikus for lovers: part 1
It’s been six months since I placed you on repeat
and watched your fingers curl into hers.
Something so simple as touch.
Something so fleeting.
It’s palm first.
Her hand’s already upturned.
You sense it. Like lovers do.
I lose sight of the centre.
all the mysteries of the universe
are wrapped within.
Something as simple as touch.
I dismantle the sockets. I smash the TV.
Still it plays, over and over in the dark.
You were my water god
And I, your forest spirit.
old names lost to the wind/
ours was a story, centuries old.
We were fantasists
and so much younger than today.
We’ve grown now. better/worse
but the sea still flows- behind your eyes
and your voice still sings a shanty
when you forget the means to speak.
When I stretch my fingers out to touch
they gnarl forever inwards
and each year a new skin grows-
carving rings within my flesh/
The messages you send me fill spaces where the truth should be
but water flows, it does not hold.
My secret is buried-
under centuries of roots.
Hello new followers! Lovely to see you. Toasting you from Edinburgh with a glass of Mortlach 16. Have a creative evening. :)
I: woman? no, girl. woman, a cloak too heavy yet for me.
I: green girl forced into corset of brick and mortor.
Tower blocks sprout skywards not as birds,
but bars to cage them.
I am no straight line, no thoroughfare, no platform nine.
This is not my form.
I am feral girl with dirty fingernails
I am entangled veins,
is not my form.
My buttress roots swell and push hard against the walls of this city,
Which tempts “forget forget”
that this is not, and never will be, my form.
abouttodeletethiscrap-deactivat said: When you become a real writer. Let me know. I'll stand in line for your book. Hardcover. None of that e crap.
Thank you! It’s lovely to know you are enjoying the lima bean that is my writing. I hope someday this book exists. :)
You tell me you lust
for my hourglass curves.
I’m filled up to my neck with sand
a scythe in each hand
Time waits for no man.