this poem is about falling in love in the summer.
Tag: Poet
Nothing is
Is breathing Is sitting and reading Is working for money Is loving a person you’ve got time for Is holding a child, Pushing them on the swings Is bleaching the toilet Is being in the supermarket, Finding they’ve discontinued Another brand Is having a talk that’s Becoming a row Is lying in the bath and … Continue reading Nothing is
And I Feel Compelled To Write
write, yes on paper! i haven’t a stable means – pen, pencil, my own blood i am technology weary i have shut down my device i am a purse snapped shut i want to look look, count what few pennies ... around me, look! books you have read many books what of the physical copies … Continue reading And I Feel Compelled To Write
These Wounds.
i am dangling my legs above the brook my hand palm down in the grass i watch my reflection move - observe me lightly then i see the pale pink wrapped like sausage skins around my toes are these plasters waterproof before i dip, swimming them must i remove them? i find i have stuck … Continue reading These Wounds.
Generational
i think it is fucked up that there were generations of children not encouraged to speak their minds that if you asked them to write a poem they would reply how, what about and i say how you feel and they would wrinkle their nose and say in disgust how i feel like they packed … Continue reading Generational
Poetic Insights 