Fangs grind, skin flakes
the tide rises,
false teeth, crows feet
the tide still rises,
you were there, you let it be,
the tide rises,
I am here, why should I,
the tide still rises,
oil burns, laughter lives,
the tide rises,
children grow, talking ceases,
the tide still rises,
fangs grind, skin flakes
false teeth, crows feet,
babies born, mothers die,
all beneath the same old sky
the tide floods,
You were there, you didn't care,
I was young, I didn't dare,
We are here,
We can help.
The tide remains.
Strange Mouth
-
Leafy Bones
Monday 17 February 2014
Climate Change
Labels:
#2014,
#Arctic,
#author,
#change,
#climate,
#environment,
#environmental,
#flood,
#global,
#iamwriting,
#movement,
#ocean,
#poem,
#poetics,
#poetry,
#political,
#social,
#tide,
#warming,
#writing
Sunday 10 February 2013
Hello,
So recently my technology has been rising against me, but I'm thinking of building a new site that should keep everything in check. In the meantime I've been using my blog on Tumblr if ya fancy a tumble (too much cheese). I'll get it fixed anyway, thankyou for all your lovely comments xx
So recently my technology has been rising against me, but I'm thinking of building a new site that should keep everything in check. In the meantime I've been using my blog on Tumblr if ya fancy a tumble (too much cheese). I'll get it fixed anyway, thankyou for all your lovely comments xx
Monday 19 November 2012
Home
My home is empty,
wherever I stand I'm blind.
I've never lived in this land.
Fifteen and I got to say yes to the first boy who asked,
two months later and I made him cry.
I could never understand why
they didn't want to get out of this place.
This is home?
'This is home',
I've never felt compelled.
I've always seen my area
as a place I simply dwelled.
It's not that I don't love those within this isle
It's just I'd hoped there was more to see.
But what person doesn't have a home?
Is it just me?
wherever I stand I'm blind.
I've never lived in this land.
Fifteen and I got to say yes to the first boy who asked,
two months later and I made him cry.
I could never understand why
they didn't want to get out of this place.
This is home?
'This is home',
I've never felt compelled.
I've always seen my area
as a place I simply dwelled.
It's not that I don't love those within this isle
It's just I'd hoped there was more to see.
But what person doesn't have a home?
Is it just me?
Wednesday 14 November 2012
The right thing
I've loved a thing,
not your eyes
not your lips.
I fingered the motions
from hair to hand
watched words tumble behind ears, again,
danced down my cheek
not your eyes
not your lips.
I fingered the motions
from hair to hand
watched words tumble behind ears, again,
danced down my cheek
I've loved a thing,
half smile in hide
it slipped up my mind,
you only loved the thing.
I've loved it to death,
strangled the acquittance-
pulped the organs dry.
I have done the right thing
half smile in hide
it slipped up my mind,
you only loved the thing.
I've loved it to death,
strangled the acquittance-
pulped the organs dry.
I have done the right thing
Wednesday 19 September 2012
Repris sur le jardin
I fear my explanations
poisoned at the nub
speak with such lips
to my misfortunate one-
take care of me, take care of me
though you’ll never know how-
I’ll take care of me,
before the round becomes spiked
with the thorns she grew;
mine never shed the forest floor.
I fear my explanations
are dreams I can’t amount to
are themes without war
and therefore no reasons to stand for.
I’ve got a body in water
whilst my own mixes in,
skinny fingers are like toys
grabbing baby face
searching for the things to destroy.
Take care of me, I’m in the garden again.
poisoned at the nub
speak with such lips
to my misfortunate one-
take care of me, take care of me
though you’ll never know how-
I’ll take care of me,
before the round becomes spiked
with the thorns she grew;
mine never shed the forest floor.
I fear my explanations
are dreams I can’t amount to
are themes without war
and therefore no reasons to stand for.
I’ve got a body in water
whilst my own mixes in,
skinny fingers are like toys
grabbing baby face
searching for the things to destroy.
Take care of me, I’m in the garden again.
et.
Elle chante pour les libellules.
Counting flowers.
Counting flowers.
Thursday 19 July 2012
Peace
I couldnt be in a place
Where my skin signals advantage
Taken
I couldnt be in a place
Where my sex signals advantage
Taken
I couldnt be in a place
Where my hair signals advantage
Taken
I couldnt be in a place
Where my accent signals advantage
Taken
I couldnt be in a place
Where i exist
As i am taken
And returned
With no signs of advantage
Taken
Just my thoughts
My beliefs
My soul
Your body.
Saturday 14 July 2012
Describing Brautigan
I tried to describe you,
but I ended up describing them all. Sideways on, face glances: my cheek's then the ceiling’s, reiterating the stars of your tongue.
but I ended up describing them all. Sideways on, face glances: my cheek's then the ceiling’s, reiterating the stars of your tongue.
Eye’s, lips- somehow all those colours and shapes can sound exactly the same. Individuality lies only in my memory, the inn keeper to your reflection. You couldn’t be more wrong, you couldn’t be more dealt with, yet it’s your’s I think of when I read this poem
that has no meaning to me at all.
that has no meaning to me at all.
____________________________________
This poem is inspired by another by Brautigan called "I tried to describe you to someone" ( http://www.flickr.com/photos/emilyw_tbs/2193909590/ ).
I'll leave it at that- quite a few people have said they want to know more about what or where my poetry has come from before, so, it's not much maybe but I guess it gives more of an insight if you want to read Brautigan as well, also just because he is another poet and might be worth a read :)
SM x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)