Poetry, Uncategorized


The pain of our mothers is not something that bears thinking about.

The sun has shone endlessly since this began, great brilliant blue skies and buttercups and forget me nots, dandelion and wild roses and burdoch. The sun hits a patch of my skin that sits on the patio. The sun hits, the garden blooms, and I wonder when I will feel human

I smoke a cigarette. I had told myself i would give up but just living is a cross to bear at the moment, living the most precious of states

Blood runs through my veins.

It is extremely warm for April
I spray sun tan lotion on my skin
The trees glisten
Its unreasonably warm
I listen to the still beating drum of cars passing on the nearby interchange

after the flood the tide creeps in
and I’m on hands and knees, on all fours, in the eye of the storm

The sun sets over 1000 cities
The roads run still
The motorbike engine whirrs and i fasten my feet into the stirrups
I don’t recognise myself or my body

These days the moon sits in solitude of the sun
Beneath my feet i watch the asphalt rushing by, shifting multicoloured through every shade of grey on gods green earth
I dream tonight of a world where all people live freely in harmony
Dragonflies buzzing around my head
Swatting flies from my gaped mouth.


Closed my eyes and imagined my body turned to dust, bones in the desert, flesh rising like flames licked, a waterfall, an ocean

Ran till I couldn’t breathe anymore


january 6th 2020

I run with my heart gripped between my thumb and forefinger, my muscles ricochet off of sand dunes- following the blue line into forever
Cold winter sun fills my lungs, chalk crumbles from cliffs dug out by ancient smugglers
There is something holy locked inside,

The other side of this pearly globe is in flames
There is white noise in my head
Screaming like there is something holy locked inside

Lick the flame off the root of the ancient tree, drive the hoof into the burning sand, Suck the sap from the chalk that rots, Kiss the belly of the bark that leaks, Twist and turn through flaming waters; hear the reeds sing their last lament before

Everything turns to dust


sexting series part 0

0. organ shaking

a fractal space

the disembodied mind

(armour clad & crave nearer half light)

0. Fallen perspective. bones protruding from cellular forms

malleable skin powdered in dust and placed amongst see through plastic sheen lotus petals

0. a body wrapped in its own cast shadow

the uncertainty of your own reflection in the dust

0. sheen blue chiffon lace on a leather basin

2 codfish enshrined in resin

(NOTE) the body mountain, movement (bass)

black holes