The song of the Plovers:

A song for this poem: Youth by Daughter from the film A Long Way Down   Everything was tender now, everything, The song of the night time Plovers, Kicked things up an extra notch, She noted the heightened sense of awareness, “Ah, I’m almost dead now,” she reassures herself, She’s so sure of it, She more

The Long & Winding Road

It’s so important not, To look a gift horse in the mouth, So when she said, She could help her, She was quite delighted, “I will integrate all of your splits,” My oh my! But she pushes down her hope, She swallows it, Because Black Swans only think, They are Black Swans, And Ugly Ducklings more

Your Cleansing Grace:

It’s as if you feel unworthy of my love, When the truth is that every man gets compared to you; I went with him, because he reminded me of you! Because, the garage door was down!! And the car engine was running!!!   It was like living on a rollercoaster inside a maze, But then more

Between my fingers:

She falls:

From grace,

From sight,

From God,

From herself.

 

It’s when she sleeps,

She meets them again;

All her lost loves,

The ones she let slip between her fingers.

 

girl and sleep

A new technique…

… that’s going to change her life, From now on she won’t be able to remember, The evil men, the nightmares, the monsters, The Therapist promises; From now on a new life full of hope & wonder.   She wakes up the next day, Who is she? The memories have gone, But so has she! more

Daddy, I’m running on empty…

Is that you, daddy? Is that you haunting me? It’s time to say goodbye, So take your noose and fly.   I’ll blow you a kiss, But just remember this, Don’t take it the wrong way, Don’t make me regret, Having my say.   Because little girls don’t know, They just don’t know, daddy, And more

She keeps her heart alight…

… (again and again) in the hope she will draw him to her,

Children take flight,

The mirror doesn’t lie,

Even if he was here,

She knows he would always want to be right,

Until she gradually let’s go, she loses the fight.

girl redhead

 

 

 

 

Sleeping with scissors:

Her beloved – dead and buried in the ground,

Sleeps in the next room to her,

To keep an eye on her.

 

She doesn’t like the growling in the night,

So she sleeps with scissors,

But apart from that, sublimely peaceful.

man colour

 

 

Did you ever really love me?

What chance did I have? . . . and there they go, There goes all of the people, Like soldiers in the snow.   Down they go, Straight into hell, Gone forever from me, (And yet still within), Stinking up the place with their smell.   Little scars inside of me, That probably won’t ever more