Monday, 14 August 2017

In a song

Let hands slow to Venus time
Retract from world beyond
An imprint of loves energy
As days pass in a song


Sunday, 6 August 2017


What is better than being inspired to write poetry? Inspiring beautiful poetry in the man who inspires me. We are both muse and creator. I'm greatly enjoying this collaboration. There are times when I feel unsettled. This is the fear of being hurt presenting itself. Yet, when I'm operating through instinct, I feel brave and joyous.

Tuesday, 1 August 2017


What a difference two months makes. On the 1st June, I was writing poetry about a ghost. Now on the 1st August, I'm writing it about a man who's presence is active.

At the beginning of June I was wrapping blue flowers around a broken clock. Hoping that the ghost would remember. I no longer hope for this.

On this first day of August, I love someone new. It perhaps apt that Goldfrapp's Utopia plays my wait for him to arrive at my house. Just over a week ago, he asked me what I wanted to do, I said "just be here". There wasn't anything that could have improved it. We were enough.



Sometimes it's easier when you know that love is entirely unrequited.  Of course it's terribly sad but it's still easier than I uncertainty. That sense of being too far ahead in feelings and not knowing how to backtrack through your emotions. Love doesn't come with a remote. You cannot pause, rewind, stop and you can't fast forward. I'd rewind if I could so that you might catch up. Or maybe I'd pause my feelings so I could enjoy you, us, without my heart clouding the experience. Every time I see you I feel more.  Though you tell me it's the same for you, we know that I'm a number of steps in front. You, so incredibly balanced in myriad ways. This, and others, makes you one of the best people I've met. I wonder if our feelings will ever find balance. Will you start to feel much the same way I do or never, ever catch up........


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Your transient

~ Give me lines on glass The dawn tides And walking past Bring me feathery flashes The midnight moments And backward glances ...

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