Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Total Recall

Total Recall is on. It's fast approaching bedtime. It's a school night. I must sleep. Yet I repeat, Total Recall is on. Curses.

Petals on his jacket

I keep thinking back the first time I saw him. There were petals on his jacket, from where he'd gotten too close to the climbing flowers. His long(ish) hair cascaded over his striped shoulders. He felt entirely beautiful, in every way.  

We could have been anywhere that night. Everything else was background except us two. Our images were sharp, merged, colourful and almost illuminated. I felt as though we could have lit a thousand cities with the energy between us. 

I would groundhog day that first meeting in a heartbeat. In fact, in memory, I often do. 


The RGF xxx

Monday, 27 February 2017

Second love

I discovered some months ago that 17th century sexting is flipping marvellous. I think I found it so appealing because I love language. The combination of sexual  and romantic wordplay became foreplay from afar. Indeed, that was rather the point of it. We both wanted to send endorphins zipping across the miles until we could enjoy them face to face. By Goddess, enjoy ourselves we did, both off and on the page.

As a sapoisexual who is a little obsessed with romantic language, when interacting via messages that are so vast and well articulated that they present as the handwritten love letter - wooing occurs. I don't think my wordy partner wanted me to fall in love with him, in fact I'm positive that he didn't but he did want to impress.  Unfortunately, the former was the unexpected side-effect of latter. 

Essentially, I didn't want to fall but like interactions with The Borg, resistance was futile. There are those who do not accept that love is possible in so short a time. They say, you only fell in love with the idea of him and to those people, I say this: people only ever fall in love with the idea of someone. It's how they seem to us that we love. Sometimes we hold back but if the feelings come, they come regardless. Love is not time sensitive. If you're ready and right person turns up, you fall.

Furthermore this man reminded me of my first love. Something that I've only recently fully realised. The first guy I fell properly in love with, was also fond of poetic language. I recall that he used compliment me in ways I'd never stumbled across before. Comparisons to the pre raphaelites and similar platitudes often fell from his perfectly formed lips. He bombarded me with flowery language.  Most of which was probably nonsense but it was beautiful nonsense nonetheless.  And my seventeen year old self was impressed by him, thus I fell in love without barrier or hesitation. I wasn't trying to hold back. I was inexperienced and idealistic. In certain respects, I haven't changed that much. 

I've been in love numerous times since I fell for my first, yet it wasn't until Summer of last year that I experienced the love I'd long been searching for. Though my Summer romance was brief by many standards, it was a transformative relationship for me. There have been many changes and much creativity since I met that man.  Moreover, I now refer my Summer romance as second love because it's the second time that I've felt it that way.

Here's to firsts!

Here's to seconds!




Saturday, 25 February 2017



At times, in soul, we interlock
You're here in algorithm
Like that time I heard the clock
Heart's beat in synchronism

As I curve my body back
Our shapes, rhythms, magnetic
The second of the zodiac
Links the ninth in biometric


Monday, 20 February 2017


As The Stone Roses play I wanna be adored through the speakers of my phone, the three half-written poems have become one. Thus, the words are now complete.

In the end, finishing was fairly straightforward and swift. Isn't it a shame that other things cannot end so easily.


Wild notes


Twisted strings, blood red
We were opposite and one
Behind these lines, mirrored
We’re wild notes lost in song

Travel me back, in time, in place
We'll be there, star crossed still
My mind retains, cannot replace
Make what was lost eternal


Sunday, 19 February 2017


I have a million words roaming around my head. I can't articulate any one of them into words on a page. This isn't like me. Words are my thing. Perhaps the three, half-written poems sitting in drafts will be completed in time. I think perhaps these poems are a metaphor for my soul - though complete in itself, its' twin is missing thus in a sense my soul awaits full completion.


Thursday, 16 February 2017


"In the silence of the garden
Moths are rising on the wind
And the beast is pondering love love love
‘Till the rusty nails grow dim

I can’t seem to make you mine
Through the long and lonely night
And I try so hard, darling
But the crowd pulled you away
Through the ribbons and the rain
And the ivy coiled around my hands

So I lingered with the people
In the silent August glade
But the rain has brought the night
And the night has brought the rain."

The Clientele (Used in The Lake House). 

Monday, 13 February 2017

Saturday, 11 February 2017

Soul stuff

Vote Grimes

I care not that Grimes' album Art Angels divided the fans. It is the best thing since the beginning of, well, things really.

Every single track blows my mind. Sometimes she sounds like a My Little Pony on acid but this does not matter. It's strange. She's strange. And it is all absolutely perfect.

Vote Grimes!



Alongside spaffing into the abyss that is this virtual page, I have been known to put brush to canvas and other places.

My recent creative outpourings look like this........

Fabric paint, tie-dye, pastels, broken CDs.

With love,

The RGF xx

Friday, 3 February 2017


I love my family and friends with all my heart. This needs to be written. Without all the incredible people I know and those I've known, I wouldn't be me.


Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Queen of my heart

Incredible. I only wish I could go back and discover her sooner. 💃✌💖


In online dating: To ghost is to cease interactions without explanation. The ghoster simply decides to ignore the person they're interacting with. Prior to ghosting, communication may have taken place over many days or weeks.

Ghosting is, in my opinion, representative of the lack of consideration rife in modernity. Offering an explanation requires effort and who has the time to consider someone else in the hectic flow of everyday life? And does it really matter? After all, the only person that ever had any relevance in the interaction was the ghoster. Wrong. Dead wrong. Everyone matters.

Only the hardest of hearts would neglect to have an emotional response to ghosting. Very few people are completely bereft of emotions. Most of us have some degree of self-doubt and suffer moderate to more extreme self-esteem fluctuations. Therefore, with this in mind, consider others. If you've had a change of mind about someone - tell the would be ghostee. Save their feelings and say goodbye. Do it because it's the decent thing to do. 

I've been ghosted on numerous occasions. I can report that to be ghosted, is varying degrees of unpleasant. The resulting emotional response reflects the length and level of communication prior to ghostyness.

In short, do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. Also, remember that karma's a bitch. At some point the ghoster will become the ghostee and when they do, it will sting like a hyperactive wasp lost in a world of amphetamines and Gabba. 

People of the dating world, and people in general - don't be a dick. It's easier than you think.


The RGF xxx


As each day passes humanity seems to be falling into the dystopian future described by Babylon Zoo in Spaceman.

*Soulless society. Mediated existence. Fascism. Divided community. Disconnected. Dying planet. Human's as robots. Information consumed not questioned. Suffering of others observed. Hope dead. Self-absorbed. Self-interested. No awareness of the real self. Thirst for media. Ambivalence to knowledge. Apathy.*

"Beam me up 'cause I can't breathe". 

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