Experimental :: White

Bleached out, harsh albescent morning:
Bitter wind flattens inner growth
As the daffodils falter,
Spring ironed from their stems;
Crushed hope in winter’s hardened grip.

Too much else to think:
Mind shatters under pressure drop
Let me run away, wrap up
Warm and safe from decisions
Crushed by inability, no understanding.

Washed out, blank consciousness
Bitter apprehension, cold and fearful:
When the body will not rise, deformed
By rough, white contamination,
To little left to give.

Poetry Archive :: Did it Again

It is becoming increasingly impressive how a poem written at the start of a week ends up as being more apposite than when first written. It is almost as if life is imitating art. In this case, this is a pretty accurate representation of the balancing act that takes place between my brain and body, and that the consequences of ignoring one for the other does end up having a physical affect on my life.

I think I might go have a nap after I’ve scheduled these poems.

Did It Again

Waking again before the dawn
With mind racing, ideas unborn:
Creative need inspires the soul,
But is not helping body’s whole.

This always happens, every time
Believing everything is fine,
My creativity demands
Physical cost, out of my hands.

For days the sleep I badly need
Is sacrificed, comfort concedes
Battle to my higher functions,
Causing physical malfunctions.

These bruises, bumps and scrapes attest
Physical status is oppressed:
No need now to co-ordinate,
Make use of brain, before too late.

When finally the moment’s passed
My body’s first request, when asked
Is not for exercise we skipped
But simply for a nice, long kip.

Poetry Archive :: Reflections

Yet again, this poem ended up far more personal and revealing than was first planned. It’s odd how that happens, that the generic starting point almost inevitably sublimates into something far more subjective. In this case, this poem ended up being the final poke required to make some much needed change in my personal life. This week has become hugely significant, and I’m cautiously optimistic looking forward that the next few months will be hugely positive in terms of change.

It probably helps too that spring is coming.


This critical look, mirror reflects my
Thousand tiny imperfections right back.
Harsh neon light, nothing for confidence
Exacerbating, inner fears attack.

However hard life gets, do not forget
Reality is larger than perceived.
Refractions merely part of complete whole
Perpetual truths much more than first believed.

There needs to be some time to look within
Constant desire to ponder, then define
Each change then slowly grasped and understood;
Gradual evolution over time.

Every instance offered will be taken
Fresh chance to reassess, refining still
Life a balancing act, seeking challenge
With focus on maintaining fortune’s thrill.

In the end, all I have is within me
Reflection’s gaze only real truth that’s known;
Let all that I am be the catalyst
Continuing consciousness nurtured, grown.


Poetry Archive :: True Beauty

On the flipside of our poetic juxtaposition for the week, I’m back in the land of rhyming which, for the record, I’m not a huge fan of right now. However, the number of people who inform me that unless it rhymes it’s not poetry is sufficient for an unruly mind to accept the direction being told to head in.

In the end, this also ended up as being far more personal than expected. That seems to be happening a lot of late…

True Beauty

Look closer, see what lies behind
A preconception, state of mind;
Is what you sought a truth believed,
Simply surface, vision deceived?

Single, individual’s taste,
Aesthetics constantly replaced;
This ceaseless search for perfect truth
Wrapped up in attitude and youth.

When flawless start to fade and age,
An understanding can assuage:
With time comes wisdom and true depth
Grasping, evaluating breadth.

Our clearest visual lies within,
So happiness only begins;
When apprehension is removed,
Enlightenment finally proved.

Forget the look, focus on form,
Grasp deviation from the norm:
These flaws create appearance bright
True beauty’s focus of delight.

Poetry Archive :: My One and Only

I’d like to take a moment to state, for the record, I am INSANELY proud of this week’s Micropoetry. Firstly, I used the French term arrondissements and rhymed it in a manner that was not only relevant but utterly awesome.


Second of all, I wrote a love letter to my favourite city: it is perfectly acceptable to express love for a place, I am reliably informed, and this is a town I fell in love with at an early age. It is where my husband proposed to me, and where we went for our honeymoon. It’s also where I spent my 50th Birthday, and (if I have the chance) is probably where I’d retire. Mostly, Paris is amazing, and as a result, utterly deserves more poetry to be written about it.

This, I feel, is a pretty decent start.

My One and Only

Will never fail to understand
Always willing to take my hand
My one and only soothes the soul
Returning peace, making heart whole.

Her arrondissements surround
Life weary girl: effect profound
Agreement between life and death
Remaining even when I’ve left.

The Seine will calm inherent fear,
An understanding strong and clear:
From cafe warmth to Tour Eiffel,
Ring Notre Dame’s distinctive bells.

Your sounds will heal the broken parts
Of mind and body, then will start
The reconstruction of belief
Elimination of brief grief.

This city never cheats nor lies
Brings joy with greeting and goodbyes
My one and only, staunch best friend
Paris, beginning without end.

Poetry Archive :: The Sensual World

I am gonna have a hard time bettering this week’s offerings next week, and suspect it could be time for a change in tack on the ‘romance’ front. Whereas the Haiku is clearly doing the dirty this week, the Micropoetry decides to be a bit more reflective in its dissection of passion between the sheets. However, people are still having sex, the word orgasm gets used and so this might cause a bit of a ruckus in certain circles.

Please consume your erotic literature (in all its forms) as responsibly as possible.

The Sensual World

My grasping hand pulls forward need,
Equal pressure soft lips will feed:
Upon the fruits these bodies yield
Whilst layered warmth ‘neath cotton shield.

As coupling becomes our dance
Desire fights passion, both advance,
Beyond the simple pulsing beat
Of small release; orgasms fleet.

Our coalescing, strengthened whole
Compelling mind, intertwined soul:
Together locked, deepening tryst
Where pain and doubt will not exist.

As each new spark of passion flares
Between us both burden declares
The strengthening of final form:
That redefines accepted norm.

Our sensual world, never far
Within whatever space we are
Requiring simple care to fuel;
Eternal fountain of renewal.


Poetry Archive :: Hate

Love is not all it is cracked up to be. With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, for some the whole sordid affair is less than attractive. What is often forgotten are those stories that won’t sell flowers or chocolates. This poem is one of those and is based on a true story. I realise how lucky I am, having been with the same person for many years, and that the sanctity of marriage is not actually a guarantee you’ll end up being treated either fairly or decently.

Every relationship has the possibility of going south really fast. In this case, it took a decade for the deception to be exposed.


Here you are, attentive:
Yet somewhat sarcastic,
No longer that fantastic.
What we possessed has gone;
Love evaporated,
Relationship outdated.

So overly cheerful
As to become grating
Then slightly nauseating.
Acting like a grown-up:
No need to be twisted
I might yet have persisted…

Were it not for the fact,
You’ve been sleeping with him
My own younger kith and kin.
Grasping one’s not enough,
Wanting to pleasure both?
Abuse of the marriage oath.

Sexuality’s fine,
Not where objection lies
Enjoying both girls and boys.
But you married me, not
My brother, so therefore
High time I showed you the door.

Hate’s a really strong word,
We both feel that from you
Now the truth has been cut to:
No longer so happy,
Bring deceit to a close.
This deception is exposed.