Mother, the lad is brilliant!

he builds me rainbows and brings me roses.

so why the tears child?”

Mother! he doesn’t ride down south.




heart on chords.


Break my heart,

stitch it together then, break me.

kiss my senses, let my members go to war.

Bring me happiness,

invade my soul, let my feet dance to your tone

body follows suits, seduction.

Give me closure,

you understand me, speak when my tongue deserts me.

this feelings I cant put in words…

euphoria, desolation, calm, turmoil, blithe…

you make me feel it all, art.





Dear boy.



I want to feed you the world and watch you eat it.

touch your skin in places only darkness knows.

Kiss your soul and teach you to bask in vulnerability,

be the antidote to your pain and drink your sadness.


I want to love you till it hurts to breathe.

match the love your eyes fail to hide.

give you all of me till there’s nothing left to give.

but you cant give what you don’t have.


so when you leave for her half baked love, It will hurt.

but if you pick me, there will be  no survivors.





Deadly alive.


life is waiting for me,

chores, duties and needs to be met.

Books are waiting to be read

and adult things beckon

but here I am, drinking oxygen from words of strangers.

Searching for life in letters and lines.

a tale so intricately woven, a word, careless sentence, a blogpost

poetry so raw, naked, unadulterated waiting to meet my soul,

leaving me vulnerable, gasping for a second, then deadly alive.

just air.



here I am, with the too much I have said

and the ocean of thoughts I keep locked in my throat.

Here I am with love in my heart and vile in the words I need to spew.


Still, here I am cutting, tailoring these words to hit like lightening.

strong, hard, burning but never enough to make to you hate the rain.


Here I am, on my knees

with my words  dancing on iced air

brain mocks heart,

tear clears  vision,

regret falls on lap.


here I am, lines crossed, feelings tossed, sleeves bare…


There you are: insouciant.


when 5am meets you outside,

the birds will sing songs foreign to your ears

the cold will be so wicked your fingers grow numb from pain

your skin will reek of  cheap life.



this is not the life your mother wept to the gods for.

Dr evil.

I was a mother once,

but the heart was young,the mind was juvenile

and the times were unkind.


It would have been a beauty.



Something about poetry and 4am.

makes my veins come alive.

Devils cup.

keep your darkness in the pockets of your tee shirt.

tame your demons before they strangle you.

you must tuck your troubles in an envelope and seal it with a smile.

don’t you cry loud now, the others are dressing their tears.

come, dip your fears in cologne now my darling.

you must learn the art of soliloquy.

There is too much darkness for yours to be noticed, considered even.

nobody cares unless you’re pretty or dying.

Set your table, dine with the devil.

drink of his cup, heed not his words

darkness is here, be very afraid.

Take a chill, now the pill.


paper people.

the pretty one

Vintage Art Deco Mucha Spring Lady Art Nouveau

Honeyed legs in a skirt, watch her sway.

locs of peaceful yellow,

bosom filled with careless promises

the sun and rain at war for her sake.

The breeze grows a crush and flirts shamelessly.

oh! she makes the birds sing,

chases the fog away, makes a lads day.

misses grow green with envy.

Orchid, lavender, daisies

Flora and Adonis dance in unison

have you seen anything more beautiful?

eyes catch the mist,

noses cry at dawn in awe…


the pretty one….