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

away

from me

leaving

a struggle

for the rhythm

 

and walked

with no style

or sway

or even

a finished poem

left

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