Monthly Archives: April 2012

Senescence


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Your smooth, tanned brow
sits above my tawny eyes,
neat, flat bridged nose
flaring in the glass,
deep philtrum
promising vitality –
longevity a myth.
 

I pour achievements
into paper cups, hold
them to your full lips,
sip small droplets
of triumph, while tucking
disappointments inside
naval-neat cuffs.
 

I wait, knowing that I will
watch time score lines
on parchment, scorch age
spots into soft, thin skin
and etch laughter lines around
features I had thought
beyond my grasp.
 
 

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Rape

Fields of Rape Brassica napus in Pembrokeshire South Wales
 
 

Bucolic plates shift,
seismic thrift
grips,
 

rips growth from womb,
bride from groom.
 

Gimlet-eyed
and pinned to granite
 

the earth
quakes.
 
 
 

~ Posted for Earth Day 22nd April 2012

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Lucy 25


 

buttery soft lemon-light skies
scorching cerebral subdivide
white-knuckle narc on cornflake ride
 

ecstacy comes in liquid guise
star half-hitched to the acid bitch
synesthetically polarised
 

slip-sliding on the Lyserglide
buttery soft lemon-light skies
 
 

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Masked


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Skillfully stilled and digitally mastered,
all creases erased round raggy-edged eyes,
porcupine spine limp-quilled to a glacier.
 

Pinwheeled and pinholed iconoclaster
shuttered in buttery lemon-light skies,
skillfully stilled and digitally mastered.
 

Vanity falls to crumple-core capture
as filigree-filtered soul sanitised,
porcupine spine limp-quilled to a glacier.
 

Pixels per inch that make up the raster,
vector of image, glissando reprise,
skillfully stilled and digitally mastered.
 

Obtainable twain, youth’s alabaster
sickly slipslides past the visualise,
porcupine spine limp-quilled to a glacier.
 

Fleshlife shows perfect porcelain’s fracture
as daylight invites us to scan, scrutinise.
Skillfully stilled and digitally mastered,
porcupine spine limp-quilled to a glacier.
 
 

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Filed under Poetry, Villanelle

the seamstresses


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Isaac Israels (1865-1934) ~ Seamstresses at Atelier Paquin, Paris
 

~ for all the amazing women in my life, you know who you are
 
 

core spun thread
thimbled
through filigree fingers
 

slip-stitched seams
raw edges
tucked neat
 

silver grey pellicule
salved and selvedged
far from the fray
 

gaussian smoothed
beneath seamstresses’ gaze
 

tonight
there will be no unraveling
 
 

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Say When


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

peppermint leaves
picked
++++shred
+++++++spread
 

crunch-crackle dried
boiled
++++heaped
++++++++steeped
 

strained, scented balm
filtered
++++fresh
+++++++zest
 

steaming fluid
infused
++++poured
++++++++sluiced
 

scalding liquor
spattered
+++++spewed
+++++++++splashed
 

saucerless cup
cascades
+++++sears
++++++++tears
 

when
 

when!
 

for fuck’s sake
when!
 
 

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