A Fight To The Death:

In my sleep, I am an Angel fighting the Demonic forces, I use reason, wisdom, love and patience, From behind my shield; Never wishing to do bodily harm.   The sinister laugh reverberates, Through my entire being, But I do not wither away for I am full of light; All encompassing and saturating.   “Be more

The child in you needs love too:

Little babies grown into big people,

She didn’t know it would feel like this;

She was always on the lookout,

For someone who might need her,

But then she realised;

Maybe at this stage of life,

It was time for her to rescue herself,

She strokes herself tenderly …

even though he threw her life into chaos she still loves him mona


The Test:

She knows it’s a test!

He’s lying there,

In the next room,

And somehow she must resist:

Throaty nothings whispered,

Into her ear,

And that pelvic thrust…

But no, no!

She must resist,

Drowning in her desires,

But this time she would pass the test.




Don’t Fence Me In:

She couldn’t be owned,

Freedom was her only desire,

The men came and offered,

Themselves to her,

She dips her toe into the moon,

And then dives in;

The lunacy of her cycle is upon her,

She may want him now,

But she won’t in two weeks.

The roller coaster begins its ascent.

girl and cat



My son’s first love:

I saw it all through his eyes, How he waited for her, Nervously, holding his breath, His first love, The one who would capture his heart, How he thought he was “better off dead,” Than twiddling his thumbs in the shadowlands, “She will come, my son, With your name on her heart, my child, But more

Fling me please:

Tiny morsels of hope spreading, Through her entire being, And Psychics weren’t wrong, Were they? Two more weeks, Only two more weeks of this misery! And then she would meet him, The man of her dreams, And, oh, if only, She had a dollar for, Every time she’d believed them! Where else was hope to more

That’s what men do …

“I give myself to you

In this moment,

No strings attached,

No promises to keep.”

So he kissed her,

With a hunger unsated for a decade.

Not because he loved her,

Not because she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

But because that’s what men do.

She’d missed that.



A quandary, a quandary:

Hermits would rather write, Far into the night, And watch their words take flight. And pickled men will lose the fight, When they see that she won’t bite, She wants their sex, But that’s not right! Unless she slaves for them in the daylight, Dragging up their brats, With all of her might, So stick more

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