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Hope

Hope.   There are things that I want, Through impulse, urge, lust or greed. There are things that I wish, For me, you, and those in need. There are things that I crave, Out of hunger, habit, or being alone. There are things that I take, A seat, advantage, for granted the things that I Read More

A History of Our Love

Ten thousand moons ago, beneath the light of stars, In some forgotten kingdom realm of far away, A pauper fled his prison cell of iron bars and met his princess love upon the dawn of day. For in each others’ souls there lived an endless fire Which cruelly did endure a time of years apart, Read More

My Love is a Late Afternoon

My love is a late afternoon. It is the nostalgic glow of a waning hour. It is the sense of surety following the middle of the day, that the cold of the early morning is a distant memory. It is the familiar winding down of work and the lowering of a burden. It is the Read More

Our Love Beyond Words

My words cannot encapsulate in rhyme Th’extent and depth and lasting of our love And ne’er is there expanse enough of time To quantify the joy that I speak of. So, limited in lexicon and phrase, (For words, unlike our love, have limit end) I’ll show our love’s eternity in days Devoted as your lover, Read More

The Naughty Porter’s Poppy Top-up

I taught a portly porter proper water regulation When he had chosen hosing all the poppies in the station. I suggest it best, I thought, to water from a can, As candidly, the hose he chose would leave them weak and wan.   This stocky station-stocker thought me odd and off my rocker, Retorting with Read More

A Poem About Daffodils

Daffodils aren’t daffy Nor so serious And not always so happy A bit like all of us   Happy Poetry Day 2018! Read More

Across the Universe

My love of Steven Universe knows no bounds, and so it is with great pride that I present fan poetry in anapestic tetrameter (with a cheeky iamb to start). This spoilerific homage/backstory to the show came from my love of the spectacular extended world that Rebecca Sugar and company have created. Sure, the lore is deep and mysterious, but this playful sci fi setting is a vehicle for messages of love, acceptance, bravery and equality, which makes it one of the most important tv shows of our time. My brother, Peter, liked the poem so much, that he fancied it up in a delightful poster for your enjoyment. I believe in Steven!

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Sitting on a bench on a hill

The challenge was to write something that was ‘against type’; in some way opposite to how you would usually write. I identified that my poetry usually sticks to rhyme and meter, and is mostly reliant on metaphor and simile. I tried to write a lovely seasonal piece without any of these things, and this is the result.

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September 30th

The final breath of a much appreciated rest at the mountain’s peak. A break in the clouds in the last afternoon of the working week. The dial tone after that long-delayed call to a distant friend. The visible bottom of the jar, signalling the peanut butter’s end. A single strip of green remaining for the Read More

Two People

You’re an okay, let’s go. You’re an I’ve got to know. You’re an I want to wisen. You’re a chase that horizon. I’m a let’s take it slow. I’m a maybe and no. I’m a steadily planned it. I’m a can’t understand it. You’re a clubs and two bars. You’re a dancing on stars. You’re Read More

The dream of us on the hill

You’ll never know the ‘me’ I came to be – my mind, minutiae and filigree – we’ll never share a witty repartee or get to stand in solidarity.   Your being there was not a guarantee, such is the way of our reality; dependency, and then an absentee, but here we are inside my memory. Read More

Prime Numbers

Happy    living    in    ignorance.    A    strange    material    has    enveloped    the world,    cradling    and    blinding    humanity.    What    I    sadly    am    referring to    is    a    remarkable    dependence    on    technology    and    material    possessions. Girl    ignores    teacher.    Driver    ignores    pedestrian.    Baby    ignored    by    parent. We    supposedly    are    at    the    zenith,    living    with    the    assistance of    objects,    in    gratitude    and Read More

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