As it’s National Poetry Day, I thought I’d share a poem of mine.
The mad girl spiral, time for another loop –
one last dip in the tumultuous pool,
the roundabout of waves that wail on and on.
A final round in the squared circle,
ghosts face me in the top left corner
ready with another ectoplasm right hook.
Tori Amos – ‘Winter’ plays again.
I can still feel the dried grass on my elbows.
Pollen scent. The sensation sinks.
I have some poetry in issue 12 of Door is a Jar Magazine, available here – https://www.doorisajarmagazine.net/current-issue
A poem I wrote back in 2011
The Incursion (She Looks At You Like She Loves You)
In the strength of her smouldering gaze,
there lies an unearthly kind of fire.
Her rays of toxic heat focussed purely on you –
she looks at you like she loves you.
An ownership clause stated, so matter of fact,
in the unafraid angle of her hourglass body.
She claims you limb by limb, a slow process,
looking at you like she loves you.
A smug smile on her lips, her pythonic arms
slithering their noose around you.
The girl with the Medusa curls hypnotises,
still looking at you like she loves you.
Her flames start to catch, seducing.
The Moon shall be hers, high up in his sky,
and paralysed I must watch on –
as he looks down at her like he loves her.
Previously published in the third edition of the journal ‘Otherwise Engaged’, which can be purchased on Amazon.
The world is devoid of music –
every guitar riff blanked out,
every drum solo erased entirely.
Tuning in and out of stations;
searching for the slightest beat,
praying for the hint of a hook.
Dials spinning, volume at a hundred,
the stagnant silence is an abyss.
The speakers are a black hole,
draining the last drops of energy away.
The floor falls away without the bass,
without the solidity of a song.
I just want to hear your voice.
I just want to feel something.