September
The photos of mine I like most are the ones which serve as a springboard for words or stories. I never push it. If it comes, it comes. But sometimes
Tag: poetry
this breath in my chest unchewed
this noise behind has the glass vibrating the dust in the sunlight dancing but it quietens a shadow glides past and has me frightened no words i heard have me
this nagging knowingness
a clippety clop it goes this nagging knowingness a drip-dropping aloneness a still-of-night remoteness a head-flopping heaviness this nagging knowingness a shrunken world below us a carved-out hollowness within us
Its breath I felt caress me
A breeze approached. Its breath I felt caress me. It had a song. A melody not unheard before. My hair aroused; it began to dance. I watched it
like some sort of over-vigilant ward
shoes? these aren’t shoes. these are stone bricks. stone bricks stuck to me. try as i might, and I do try, i can’t move off. and you, you there, always