the sea be rosewater in memoriam of Manos, patron of the arts, you shared your laughter, sail in peace beijing july 2009 Manos Pazianos, owner of the Aegean Arthouse Cafe in Beijing died suddenly two weeks ago; his dream of a white mediterranean square in this dusty circle is gone. These words are my tribute…
Earthquake
The sun is finally here and it seems summer is done. The birds ate all my tomatoes and most of my plums. Cherries long gone. School’s back next week. Summer is done. School’s back with stationery and notices for sports and the bus. Fundraising baking. No more Lucky Book Club. It feels like earthquake weather….
Stitched Up
Who am I? Knocking on the … Devil’s door? Angel with – Damaged wings – Piggy in the middle – Wearing my grandmother’s slippers – Playing –Tit for Tat – Or am I merely… the prisoner – Gagged and bound – Pinned up against the wall? Screaming out – for Salvation – Who am I?…
Out of Order
We sit on balconies – Watch life flash by – Wind flickers – Red curtain waves – Red fire alarm sits beside door – Break glass – Operate switch – Create disaster… I wear a sign around my neck – “Out of Order” I promise myself that I will always swim – Never drown –…
liberate us from the tyranny of the useful
the dish washer sings bliss french doors swing vermeer floors violin bar chords mostly the xylophone incidentally on a soundtrack some rudimentary cartoon; wilfully simple. don’t do what i have done shot pool w drunks in the House, pissed on the velvet green to mark my territory, draw the curtain of sleep o horror…
at the Victoria flower garden
the tulips gay serenade the highway, slip contiguous w hiss, my pathways. it’s an idea – fixe: it fits my circumstance- s, the mood i’m in – days roll the sky & this is what eternity is what it feels when hands come together. shoot my mouth off but i’m not…
PreReversion
I’d been using tasteless opioid downers for painting abstracts and when they ran out I extracted the poppy from the pain -killer, the power from the -cetamol and the spoon almost stands in the coffee. So when I picked up one of his books, a posthumous reissue from the enviable place of continuous readership it…
She is
She sits alone – in a nest of the hair she has shed – Naked and vulnerable – Broken wing Lays beside her – She just requires the right glue to mend her So she can fly again… She has finally found her wings – She is jumping from the nest – Newborn chick –…
No Expectations
I have no expectations – When it comes to close relation ships that pass in the night – Suddenly taking flight – Yet embrace the liaisons that randomly ignite- Precious surreptitious moments – Wet hair…Wet bodies entwined – Toes curling in delight – Bodies rocking in tandem – Slipping into the rhythm of the ancient…
shadowplay
the room holds you long into evening. the sky capitulates, winds. Violet, there’s nothing b/ween us but wind bone; listen. what’s the use of flowering. hit me. whatever charge is requisite. there’s no-one here & i’m interested maybe it’s visceral. sure it’s lovely now & we’re super-conscious of our reality & no-one can…
Pocket Contents
(Published in ‘a fine line’, Summer 2019/20) Jeaned. Black T-shirted. Coiffured and moustached. Pierced, inked, ear budded. Cold brewed. Avo smashed. Ringed fingers flicker. Text sent. iPhone dark. Sleek chrome-onyx fob. Italian marque. LimeLululemon. Her sweat sweet Dior’s Decafsoylatte. No pockets. Where’s hers? I stand. Out of place. My pocket weighed down. My grubby sweats…
i’m bad but i’m not evil
watch the sky fade rose & yellows, glide river; how stillness flays you softly, holds u to. possess other than. the interlude of morning bathes, fills the silences; of thinking of doing Is & the crack between the act & – remorse. i remember the rain when we say Goodbye. i…