I have ligature marks on my ankles, from the rope that I use every day. I fasten the weights of observed pain and of of expected guilt, of spoken sorrow, and of your mournful shame to my dulled and tired body, and I climb into the water again. I don’t want to drown. I don’t … More Manotonous
Lay me down, beneath the beckoning branches of the giants. Drive the marker into the earth, and pray, for my soul.
I don’t beg, but, I will, if you ask. I don’t pretend, except, in the dark. Night unfolds, All that I hide in plain sight. My chest, an empty cavity, and void of what you need me to feel. Rotting. You would be better off, to pick another carousel to ride. This one is out … More Out of Order
I will find my way, back to the edge. The edge of the mouth of the volcano that once invited me in, with a pulsing promise of complete silence. In rest. In the last prayer. In the belly of a burning, churning whisper. Freedom, it tells me. A reconnection with the life I left behind, … More My Edge
There are moments, when I am doing nothing of any importance, or I am engaged in a conversation, or even when I am mad busy with work… and I am forced to pause because a collection of thoughts and realizations hit me. The equivalent of a 12 car pile up on the fast lane on … More 12 Car Pile Up of the Brain
I may come under fire for doing this but that won’t be an unusual happening. Instead of writing something serious (as I am in the mood to pretend that all is fine) I decided to take one of my favourite poems, and add to it – house hold appliances, rooms etc. So throw vegetables at … More Max Ehrmann, In my House
I am half. Only the right side. Half interested. Half numb. A heart, in half. Half of the young girl that used to see hope and beauty. I am not kind. Nor am I soft. I am just half. Half of something or someone that tries to be just more than half. Half brave. Half … More Half
There are moments on some days, usually round late afternoon, that my speed train brain whips into turbo mode, and I get sad. Sad – but not sure why. I could collect all the thoughts that whiz by, and blame it on the collective negativity – but it feels more complicated and runs deeper than … More Dandelions…
writing as a way of life
My ramblings poems and musings enjoy or not no pressure
The varied thoughts of a millennial modern linguist.
Talking about real things
Poetry and Poems
All that is me!
CRIME WRITER
Fabulously Refined/Wildy Inappropriate
I Kill My Own Spiders
character limited descriptions kind of give me anxiety
A few new poems every week. Haikus on Sundays.
Mocking Bird Down 