Poets Are A Weird Mob:

I get up before the sun, And before the household, So I can write poems for you, It comes out of my fingers. In reams. One day when I finally meet you, I will give them to you and, Unless you are a poet, You may not understand, The significance. You’ll hand them back, And more

My Magnum Opus:

“Is it? Is my work going to live? I wanted to be a writer, that’s all, I wanted to write about it all – everything that happens in a moment – the way the flowers look when you carry them in your arms, how it smells, how it feels. All of our feelings – yours more

Everything I know about writing practise…

I learnt from my mother: nothing, absolutely nothing stopped her. Not husbands coming and going, poverty, sickness, a house full of children, friends & relatives dropping off the perch all around her. The show must go on … she said 🙂 Thanks mum!

umbr

Journal entry:

My children and I weren’t born with silver spoons in our mouths: quite often we were alone together and their fathers were absent for whatever reason. There were no hands-on grandparents to help out, no high-flying career to bail us out of tough financial times. But you know what? You don’t get strong by swimming 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

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

 

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

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

 

 

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