“You’re far more privileged than I am,” Says the girl to the boy. “It’s not rare; That I walk down the street, only to be harassed,   Gunned down with jokes and comments too crass For me to repeat, men stare at my ass “Yes you’re far more privileged than I.” . “You’re far more…

Two Roads | Poetry

I would put a disclaimer in here about my views but I’m not really fussed about what people think. Title is going through transitions. For now let’s call it Two roads . Click the link to read 🙂

The Woman

The one lies in bed post-puke. The other writes poetry on vodka. – A machiavellian nightmare  hunting for space between thought. – Meting out pain in stanzas too brittle to hold her haikus too slim For his mind. – shot, shot, shot, shot  she is pregnant with abuse. – blood and water and pain congratulate…

Performing my Poetry

I’m sharing a poem with you. 🙂 Happy World Poetry Day. I hope you love it. If you do, let me know!  

Because dirty old men in pubs inspire spoken word.

MENCHA  The guitar hasn’t been played for seven years and twenty nine days. It lies on its side, lovelessly leaking. At every pub crawl, I ask the poor lost soul, Paul, what he plans on doing with such an instrument. He shrugs, says ‘nought’ with northern affectation, pours me another cider, grins wider then shuffles…

Agápē’s Apprentice

You are the reason I create; You are the author and pioneer of all art You are the universal need of the soul, You satiate our soul’s hunger.   I create because I want to. No. I create because I want to REFLECT YOU.   “The person I have for you, will love with My…

To Whom It May Concern

I love a nameless face This body for future hands to own.                                      Project emotion onto a blank slate; You wear a question mark for a face. From every pore It pours. This love, my dear, liquid fire….