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Sunday, 5 April 2015

NaPoWriMo 2015 | day 5

I cannot write a poem to save my life
Or move a boulder, end a ten year's strife
I'd never call my plain existence rife
I'd rather take it all with a sharp knife

Thursday, 2 April 2015

NaPoWriMo 2015 | day 2

Half my sentences are lies
But it rhymes so that's ok
It is part of my disguise
and of what I want to say

Half my sentences are lies
But they lift away the pain
of forgetting I despise
fights I'm finding were in vain

See that part there, it was true
You will never know for sure
if I'm talking straight to you
or to ghosts I may conjure

Wednesday, 1 April 2015

NaPoWriMo 2015 | day 1

Welcome to one more attempt of mine at NaPoWriMo.


Unendurable doubt
if it's with or without
someone showing the way
that you'll know of this day
of which it is not part
to endure or depart
or to cry and to pout
to forget or freak out
or abstain from all joy
it's a day you'll enjoy.

For today it is good
Filled with meaning and food
living-lottery friends
making space for amends
and with laughs, and with ease
you will find your way through
if you like, if you please
you can take me with you.

Saturday, 14 June 2014

Fucking (I hope you're over soon)

(written: first days of May, sometime)

Fucking May and fucking June
I hope you're over soon
Hope you won't last, the world is vast
I hope you're ending soon

Fucking day and fucking moon
I hope you work your magic
To make this land suffice and grand
Advice the hand that makes it tragic

Fuck, the light, and oh, the night
Please help us lift our sorrows
For a great cause with great applause
We send our troubles to good morrows

Tuesday, 10 June 2014

A Ballad

Tell me something I don't know
And I will tell you too
And this is how our life will go
A life wrapped 'round us two

And all the things I'll try to learn
In daylight and at night
Some I'll learn true, some I'll learn pure
But I'll have learned you right

Monday, 8 April 2013

NaPoWriMo Day8

Somedays
I know exactly what I want
And what I want is simple
And distant. And it hurts.

Somedays
All I really want is a small house by the sea
Where I picture him and picture me.

I turn the music on
but he hates my favourite song
he throws rocks at my direction
and my hair is full of sand instead of flowers
But I will cook the petals, make dessert
Because he likes it better
And I will play the songs I wrote
Because he likes it most.

Someday
I hope poetic speech will make up for the cheesiness I've locked inside me
I hope he'll like it more than most,
because he holds the key.

So why am I not stuck with him
At the small house by the sea
Fishing seaweed. Weed is good
But he hates sushi.

So he'll dive into the sea
And I'll feed on things he hates
Braid my sandy hair with tears
Practice clumpsy guitar moves
And when he's back it will be dark
Our favourite time of day
And the rain will keep us moist
And we'll bloom

So why am I not stuck with him?

Wednesday, 3 April 2013