2nd of February

the queen

of poetry

has taken

her royal pen

and walked home


how am I

supposed to write

now that you’ve

gone and walked


from me


a struggle

for the rhythm


and walked

with no style

or sway

or even

a finished poem


for me

to plagiarise


I don’t dream in pictures

I am all knowing

until I wake

and walk away



Copyright February 2020



20th January

I can feel the tears welling

up until I can’t stand it

anymore, it is not despair


though, I would like to

laugh and smile and dance like

a demented fairy on a honey high


wings fluttering as I bump

into unadorned walls, leaving

bloody smudges on the ceiling


pulling words out of my head

at random



Copyright January 2020

… and so it begins

I sat myself down and spoke sternly

with a mouthful of swallowed expletives

and a tongue sharpened by iced tea and finely honed peach stones


“you must write liebchen!”


stubbornness echoed as loudly as words

{especially those not uttered aloud}


“really sweetie, you know you’ll feel better if you do!”


sullenly I pick up the pen

{and hope it leaks all over the smug face of the blank paper fairy as she dances between the lines}


… and so it begins





Copyright February 2019