Tuesday, 20 April 2010

you want to hear?

Scream. i want to SCREAM! i want to shout out and let it out and finally rest in peace.

You. Your driving me CRAZY! you wont let me live, constantly there and i cant just forgive.

Take. you've TAKEN every last part of me thats worth anything, im just an empty box.

Cry. i cant even cry anymore because you've left me no more TEARS which arn't full of self pity.

the crows sit on my chest.

i'm lying in a cave with my bare chest facing up
the dangers ahead are labled and im lining my self straight up

one for love
another for sorrow
one for life
another tomorow
running to the corner my bare feet skating along loose stones
i hurl myself against the wall and let my emotions implode.
toes curled, fists clenched, eyes drowned, helplessness quenched.

what am i doing, this isnt my land
im walking with the runners
im swimming on the sand.

trying to sleep next to the fireworks just doesnt work
the colours and sounds fill my eyes and ears
included in the sight excluded from the fight
am i too small, am i missing a chromazone
is there something in my genetics
that explains my pathetics

hole in my heart, hole in my heart
made with an arrow made with a dart
cupid shot was limp
the angels forgot to make me a pair
but as i lived to believe it was unfair
i live to live with it.
i live to live with out it.

Sunday, 18 April 2010

how high can i fly. my feet still drag along the ground and im constantly yearning to climb the clouds, reaching for the air. theres something in me that is dead, something that is rotting with time, turning my touch sour, spilling out through my troubled words. i stare into space and sometimes i just, just don't see anything at all. its like i cant start my life rolling again. my once dormant feeling are errupting and theres know one to live it, no one to feel its heat or to watch its beauty.

i have already left this boat. i dived off deck into this turmulous sea. the dark waves engulfing me in a place where i cant see anything even if i wanted to. where i am constantly held.

i am writing this in my living room on the laptop, my parents are sitting in the same room. tears are welling in my eyes and i just want to run.

this hurts so much. its killing my last atoms, cells whatever you say i am made from. i am breaking down, composting, crumbling into the soil beneath me.

the then and now...

i want you to kiss my eyelids.
fold my worries in to oregami paper planes,
and fly them through the air. far away from us.

i want to put my ear to your chest and
the jungle tribe drums thunderthrough my memories.

i want you to take my lip between your teeth and
my sea salty dreams sprinkled with sunshine.

the rain forest lightening flashed before my eyes
the thunder growled from my teeth when...
when you opened your cover and i read the pages the thoughts that railed through my mind..

the full speed train crashing in to my fantasies.

the plane tumbling as the engines fail to regain air time.

Wednesday, 14 April 2010

humph. it's my mother's birthday today. and once again she manages to put a downer on everything. its as if nothing is EVER good enough for her. we try to make things special and different but she just throws it back in our faces with 'why did you bother'. its her birthday and she is determined to spend it with a frown on her face bringing my mellow down and shooting my blimp of happiness. but i wont let her. i wont let her drag me beneath the surface, i wont let her make me feel less, i wont. its put me in one of those moods where i want to cry and scream in to a pillow, where i want to tear out my hair, off my clothes and run through the streets and not stop until i am shot. its made me want to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep where i dont have to wake up. EVER.

if i could be anywhere with anyone doing anything. within a click of my fingers i know what i would choose. up in the sky on my own free falling. no guarantees. just me and the world rushing past me. the sea below me. anything i say these days is either in a singsong voice full of daisy's or a growl.

im spinning and spinning and i just cant stop, because i have that feeling in my stomach again. making me sick. making me want to tear my lungs out. theres a cancer growing in my thoughts and its polluting everything. a dark cloud hovering over anything and everything. its like im running and running through a forest, with twigs cutting and slicing my bare body, thorns twisting in my side, moss underfoot staining each step i take. theres no signs here for me, no red carpet to walk along, just me and my rushing blood tainting the earth with my dripping blood. i can see eyes looking at me, yellow with hunger hidden behind wooden trees, i can hear the silent hum of z's aiming there attack. crawling along the crypt, laden with bones i want to lay down to turn off. to switch off. to go.

im behind that door with the number 6 on it. in a room with red walls and nothing. crouched in the corner i close my eyes and listen. the hum is back. i can feel the pressure in my ears. i can feel the person inside me struggling to open the door, to get out to smell fresh air to be. but i push her back down and choke. choke on my insecurity. choke on my fears.

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

A poem: For Bruce

drip, drip, drop, little april showers.
melted rays of happiness tinkle on our shoulders.
take cover under giant, peaceful trees,
the silence can bring us to our knees.
i met you, after you met me.
music drawn the intrest in our beings, entwined a conversation,
provoking common ground.
quick stepped, hip shakin', baby makin, salsa dance.
under the lightening doused sky,
in a boat, you sit palms up. Floating
in your own content. gutteral music growing
UP towards the dreams of day.
i once said you had eyes like pete,
vulnerable, big and brown.
they soar with dreams, take flight beneath the halo of sun light.
his pertruding eyesight.
buzzing, and buzzing, the flavour of your past,
soaked into your skin and your voice,
melting the words you say with a twaaang.
covering me with a warm salty air.

Sunday, 11 April 2010

A poem: For Lamb

There's me.
And then there is you.
worlds apart in sense of being
yet as close as a fingernail we seem.
A friendship built on nothing worth seeing.
Just clouds and skates and water fights.
Just make-shift adverts and
dances on the landing.

A sister, an extra, a family member for sure.
For i can talk to you whilst on the loo
and not bother with the door.
I can tell you the things that i dont want to hear myself.
Because it feels like you've already seen them,
jolting nervously from my left ear to the right.
you to me are a flower to a bee.
A glove to a hand and an amp to the band.
Essential to my happiness i need you in my life.

A soul sistah. Because our friendship means more than substance.
Its air.
Its vital.
Its that of soul sistahs'.
The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas.
where he would dive for pearls
my lovers words were shooting stars
which fell to earth as kisses on these lips
my body now a softer rhyme to his
now echo, assonance, his touch.
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun
some nights i dreamed he'd written me
a page beneath his writer's hands.
romance and drama played by touch, scent by taste.
in the other bed, the best our guests dozed on.
dribbling their prose
my living laughing love
i hold him in the casket of my widows head.
as he held me upon that next best bed

poem by carolanne duffy. 'anne hathaway'

i love this poem so much i want to share it with the world.
its like sex on a page. It is sex on a page.

Written on the night i couldn't sleep. At all.

I am a dust dote.
Fluttering through the thick summer air.
Tumbling and toiling into this and that, no real direction to follow.
No arroe to guide me north, south or east.
Just mezmerised by the view of life from this angle,
so vulnerable and troubled.
I toil at the idea of falling from my westerly wind,
drifting me towards my new home.
So frightened of the landing that i keep myself high.
Hovering above the flames,
which light me a thousand colours.
I explode into nothing.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010


I snuck out of the house today, whilst my parents were watching tv. I donned on my cowboy boots, slipped my lighter in my pocket, slowly, so very slowly i opened the creaky door to the porch.



I paused waited for the 'hello?!' nothing.
Then to the master door. The biggie. No problemo (:
Im free. FREEEEEEE! Like a kid on blue smarties im outathere......
With my notebook and fountain pen i run along the road to my log.
My place of rest of happiness of joy of solitude.

My log.

As i lit up a smoke i rested my head against the log and dreamt............

....crouching like a tiger in the grass i wait for my moment to pounce. The sun is yawning on me, toasting my arms and the back of my neck. I can see his chest raising and falling and thats when i leap.



up in the air



down beside him i roll neatly into his side and play with his hand.
He is used to my childish behaviour.



no scrap that, i tear open my notebook and try to think of something else. something more profound.
Trying to think of something worthwhile rather than to ruin this piece of perfect plain white page. Nothing comes to mind other than peals of laughter, yours and mine, combined, entwined in the air, raining on my thoughts.
''STOP IT!!!!''
your polluting my everyday actions with attractive thoughts of you.
Quite frankly your drawing me in and im on the edge of the cliff.
Push me any further and im dead set and bound to fall.
In love.
with you.
Cheers Bucko :\

Friday, 2 April 2010

A poem: for Olive

2 ponds, 2 babies.
You are the ying to my yang.
Causing havoc, running amok round beaches to fields.
A blob of Blondie and a brown bob, 2 dots darting from adventure to the next.
'lets swim' - 'its too cold' - 'the kettle?' - 'awsome...!'
The Bath. A whole bottle of dreams emptied into our Mediterranean sea.
Where we scuba-dived for lost treasures and found each others foot.

Mission impossible: under the security beams that clinked when you touched them.
down the slippery steps of ice. Into the chamber of leisure. And back again.

Shoot. I dont have a dvd player anymore. Shoot.

Growing up with screams and tantrums. The rebellious hippies.
Tearing through our teenage years dragging our loaded past behind us like a boulder round our ankles. Parents never forget.

You my drop of spanish gold are a friend i shall treasure. For even though we are separated by a sea i know you suffer your own raging storms too and we are in the same pea green rowing boat, trying to make it to the otherside.

Thursday, 1 April 2010


This time i tried walking slowly, climbing the steps i took great care
but once again i stumbled and fell
three steps through the air
the air was thin and clear and bright
i saw ahead but it was a mirage
i've been sitting on the bottom rung for so long that i am parched of affection


maybe i need a hand to hold
to guide me up each meter high
stepping stone. Why oh why am i crippled? Is that why i am

Soothing my sores, my lumps and bumps on the ground i wonder
is this where i am meant to be? Do i belong up there?
Amoung the women.

Girl. Just a Girl. GIRL.
flat chested, small minded, virginial science project under the bell jar.