Mamo
Slippers, apple cores
Plump, warm – her brown eyes sparkle
My pillar of strength.
Category: Written Poetry
Arnold
Long, random strokes, I
Thaw beneath your fingers. Gaze
Grey skies turn to blue.
What If Planets Grew On Trees
What if planets grew on trees? Towering trunks made of time, a thousand histories yet to be lived, all creaking under the weight of the fruit blossoming in this celestial orchard. How long did God peruse this garden that had the stomach for infinite Edens before he found the perfect planets for our solar system? What mattered to Him most? The colour? The shape? … Continue reading What If Planets Grew On Trees
She Dyed
she dyed her hair pink. No one would know that yesterday it was brown. Unless they saw her yesterday, of course, or saw her facebook or instagram or snapchat live stream of the dying process which was also shared to youtube. she dyed her hair pink. Brown haired Amanda is gone!!! #newhair #whodis all traces of … Continue reading She Dyed
GodMode
Our fathers glitch by fifty, hearts freeze framed mid- pump. Our mothers metastasize, pass errors womb to womb to breast. I enter GodMode: swallow the tail end of life and cheat death / cheat code / cheat this failing body, this inheritance I never asked for. GodMode is a common cheat code in video games, giving unlimited ‘lives’. By Jack … Continue reading GodMode
The Wasp
Matryoshka tiger-skin lancer: dot of yellow, I clasp your maimed torso; it is like a tiny, weightless bolt, and then that spill of oil: dew on a stark summer morning. By Joseph Bullock Continue reading The Wasp
The Seer
I’m walking into a room made up images.
These are all images of myself
I assumed them from my figurative past,
Now they’re gathering dust on the shelf.
Bacha Posh
At one her father and mother locked eyes
The birth of a girl brought dread to their lives
A parental love, too strong to watch ache
Emerging through doors, a babe in blue awake. Continue reading “Bacha Posh”
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Where These Words Came From
I remember how it had once tasted;
The sweet air
The stale fumes
The incomprehensible fly to the flame,
Wondering how he, too, fell for the light. Continue reading “Where These Words Came From”
