Ghosts hover within these walls Unseen footsteps patter in the halls Lions couchant guard the gates Marble pain on their sealed fates The stain on the carpet – blood or wine? Remember when we used this room to dine? Abandoned… Read More ›
inspiration
the Wind
the Wind is back with her willowy fingers and her icy breath she’s stroking the hair scratching the cheeks rustling the leaves like the pages of an oft-read book she’s stirring the smells in her grey cauldron summoning the memories… Read More ›
What’s New
2018 was a strange year, steeped in sticky reminiscences. However, it led to a number of changes, including the current revamping of my website due to a number of projects that I’ve decided to carry out in 2019. What to… Read More ›
5-minute poem
tick-tock the hands roll spinning out of control pen stuck in a rut bleeding ink into a cut lecherous white face grins from the wall your shadow lengthens, heavy to haul bony fingers around your neck too late to scream,… Read More ›
Bleak Day
I feel so bleak I hate being weak Under the weather Not holding the reins A cocktail of clichés The day is sunny But, isn’t it funny, I’m hoping for rain To wash the worries Down the drain. © 2018… Read More ›
Middle of Nowhere
Mosquitoes on the glass Peer at the breathing mass Rubbing their dainty hands Expecting a feast in the sands In the midst of these parched lands Palm trees and a patch of grass Everything else meant to pass The wind… Read More ›
Merciless
Waiting on the roadside. What for? To be ticked off, Ground and minced, A pile of drying meat Left to rot and repel Everyone but hungry worms Obese, rolling heavily Yet famished, craving flesh. Is it worth the wait? Don’t… Read More ›
Disintegrating
Dreams fall apart In my hands Seep through my fingers Into the cracks Through the floor And into the river Of tears and sweat Flowing down the canyons Of the aged face where Dead dreams rot and fester Un-lived, unrealised,… Read More ›
Writer’s Block: Getting Out of the Rut
I’ve been working on my novel long enough to expect to get stuck in a rut at least once a week. What I make sure, though, is that these ‘recovery periods’ as I call them, do not last for long…. Read More ›
The Worm
A worm Lives in my throat Gnaws at the core The rotten apple Force-fed every day Eggs pregnant with doubt Wants me to shout Whenever they say ‘Hold your tongue’ ‘Speak not your mind’ It itches me into speech Piercing… Read More ›
