Category: love

BROKEN PALACES

February 3, 2024

i walk towards broken palaces

like ivory towers

in the distance, castles covering the falling stars

that cascade onto crumbling sand dunes.

my heart it shatters like glass

but that doesn’t stop me from

running so fast towards you –

away from you

and into the dark forest where it is always

night but no moonlight

shines, only the illumination of

my soul that throws a glow

of enchanted curiosity.

what was it that led me here?

what was the spark that ignited

the fires? as the clouds gathered

overhead and turned silver

like swans.

what electricity travels through me

and who is even writing now?

if i stop the magic stops;

like water not flowing, rivers not running

and i know i’ll never stand still,

like a shark constantly swimming

to avoid dying,

and all the king’s horses,

and all the kings men,

could never put me back

together again.

and when it rains i cry

and it cries when i reign.

but i am no queen, like a pauper

i am

begging outside these stone walls that we built

pleading for your time

and your mercy.

poem 2.1

July 3, 2023

a billion to one

we travel through billions of molecules everyday
that gather on either side of us,
and sometimes it is hard
to see the beauty through the endlessly mundane.
flowers floating in sewage water.
it’s about looking at the road
from a different perspective.
there is a reason that the path you chose
is less traveled.
it’s dirty and difficult and confusing.
anyone can be content,
even happy,
if you choose to seek adventure.
in every person there is a hero;
in every task there is a quest.
it’s a billion to one
that you’re even here.
what are the chances of your mother
meeting you father?
what were the odds
that they would fall in love?
we are all artists
waiting to paint.

poem #30

June 6, 2021

bookstore

i look forward to that day
when i bump into you
in a coffee shop or bookstore
and not absorb a drop
of that tiresome anxiety.
the ongoing lament;
another existential crisis.
when the words you say
sound like nails down
a schoolroom chalkboard
and not a chorus of angels singing.
the numerous meals i cooked
were not enough to make me
the centre of your universe.
instead i was a planet
in a vast solar system
that revolved around you.
even as my life shattered,
i finally felt i was coming up for air.

poem #22

March 7, 2021

ivy

i built this house
stone by stone.
my fingers bled
from all the work.
i pulled up the drawbridge
but not before letting you in.
i witnessed you plant something,
i allowed it to grow and grow.

now ivy climbs and strangles the walls.
buried deep in the foundations
and lifting my floors.
the windows now completely covered,
i forced those shutters closed.

i locked the basement,
but the flies crawl through the cracks.
i swat them away; more come - 
the body you hid down there no doubt.

the yellow wallpaper that i hate;
peeling at the edges and tobacco stained.

i risk a glance outside, is that you?
i know it has been years
since you last climbed that fence.

i must find those shears,
i thought i had them here.
did you take those too?

the near constant drizzle of rain;
oppressive clouds coagulate over me
like voluptuous rolls of fat in the sky.
i shiver against the damp chill,
but the fires cannot be lit.
i imagine you surrounded by light,
bathed in an orange, diaphanous glow
of warm July sunshine.

poem #19

February 14, 2021

valentine

i found a vase
with a flower
i could not 
keep alive.
i watered it
with falling tears,
it still wilted
and cried.
i sunned it 
with fake smiles,
the petals continued
to fall.
i placed it on
the windowsill
so it might
see outside.
but still the
colour faded,
my flower did
slowly die.

poem #15

January 17, 2021 
she told me to cut the cards twice
and create three piles. 
then she told me,
pick three cards,
as i held my question in the air.
she placed walnuts on the table.

the air filled with thick mist;
a blue filter over the forest.
she lay there on the rocks,
her legs partially in the stream.

a single pink rose on her breast;
her marble skin glowed.
her palms facing up like the Virgin.
the fur of animals had been scattered;
her hair neatly combed.

poem #13

January 3, 2021 
i know what burns within
those pages,
i know the secrets that 
you hide.
i know the pain that
follows ages,
i know what lurks
inside.

poem #11

December 21, 2020 
a glittering container
of crystal and mottled mirrors.
an exquisite dome
built around me.

i spin in circles
and you show me how to dance
until you drop my hand and smile
before walking away.

just leave.
i - must - get - out.
what can i use to smash through?
you take me by the hand once more
and we dance in circles
across the mirrored floor.