Category Archives: Original Poetry


What do you do when your arm’s torn off. Your mother’s fucked or your son’s made to suck your cock?   What do you do? Because: this will happen to you, even if you live in America.

on organised religion

Christian, muslim, jew – god is (let us grant it) but not how you mean it. Is perhaps but as an abstract, not a real person, a prime mover, an architect, actor, an interested party; a master of history traversing the linear time-line from zero to eternity.   There’s no such god. When I was […]

the black waters

Is: muted/ the empty sky of evening/ wept until –   The stars fray/ derelict shadows   lie in ragged heaps/ the I, crystalline,   beside me – long, serpentine


Who gets to write the end line in our poem; to lie, at last, suck their wine by the pool when all the chores are done?   No-one sees the masterpiece hung but you kneel dutifully to swallow bread. Like a girl or a good boy should.

everything in this room is how i want it

i’m content to do nothing substantial. it’s better to chew my fingers, use a torn nail as floss than submit to the dross of sharing my day with you.   * flies listen to me, are in tune with my vibe; the mood (i’m in) to kill descends suddenly, & shut the fuck up & […]

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Out of sight on a blue blue night. Out of mind? No, you’re intertwined. Out of sight these feelings I fight, out of mind It’s you I can’t find. Out of sight in the failure of light, out of mind it’s a turning world’s grind. Nadine you’re out of my sight, Nadine, I’m out of […]

white boats on the water

The white boats are buoyed by the water; the blue sea splayed in sunlight, cloud & sky.   My heart beats for these cubic lines, the pentagrammic houses over the shore. The fishermen.   Remember the waving light on the quay of early morning; hunger for the gusty rain before dusk, or the flash flood. […]

the moon’s influence

The old men gaze as a cloud frays across the moon.

Exclusive eyes

Exclusive Eyes   The changes in the temperature when they walk into the room, my desires and my memories all hang upon a loom.   Exclusive eyes they do not care for me, they see only beauty and it’s me they fail to see. their sepia gaze drawn down from a million nights as the […]

last night

The heart pumped with blood is the origin of thought & the worms between my ears suck it dry, tell it as it is, like a tape recorder would.   I hear it & I’m interested & I want to, dig in; get away from, but. We have lost   touch. Understand: that: if this […]

ways to disconnect

I opened my eyes an hour later. The long cabbage tree was waving. The Jasmines flowered along the back wall; nothing had changed. I’m half dreaming; how easy it is to fold, to stare at a mottled sky, fall in the pool, hear nothing but reverie. A key turns the lock & my stomach drops. […]

the owl

She calls – to whom, to what – only a dog retorted   & a drunk, & was it worth it? The mouse stricken nods & shakes his head.