




Moon Phases (2023)
The seductive touches of waking night
Breach the onyx silk sky;
Through shadows a face floodlights
And reflects the centre of a ripened eye.
In the velvet sounds and dripping hues,
Two locked gazes turn to desire
Shined in sweat and drinker’s muse;
Gentle embraces spark to fire.
Nights of courtship and conversation
Cascade over months. Rushes of electricity
Make the lovers giddy with elation
And new-borns to poetic felicity.
And in the core of their passion’s heart
A new ocean horizon set to chart.
But even in time a full glass
Is bound to spill.
Red wine to waters still,
Hoping sobriety will bypass.
Words of gentle love turn crass;
Birdsongs mutate to high-pitched shrills
And affections abundant wane to nil.
Over moonlight dark clouds amass.
In the quarter between dismay,
Quiet resentment and ritual
The urge to throw it all away.
Weeks pass; eyes now gazes
With another. This dance habitual.
You are bound to a new phase.

Bridge to Babylon (2022)
To reach the gates of Babylon
First cross a bridge of fire and ice.
Endure nightfall until break of dawn.
A scalding step for each burning liaison;
The punishment must outweigh the price
To reach the gates of Babylon.
Anguish and deceit grow from womb, spawn
From rotten seed of each crafted vice.
Endure nightfall until break of dawn.
A kiss of thorned whip will keep you on.
Pain paved – a fee for your sacrifice
To reach the gates of Babylon.
You say that you have done no wrong.
Dealt the hand of Devil’s dice.
To reach the gates of Babylon
Endure nightfall until break of dawn.

Moonlight (2022)
Under the covert blanket of nature's womb
Two souls, bound flesh to flesh,
Encased in silk shroud of a lover's tomb;
Ensnared in the fibres of Scarlet mesh.
​
Fingers laced, padlocked in place.
Lips trespass each forbidden realm
and seal secrets, unwritten on a saintly face.
Inside tender hearts bloom and whelm.
​
Magnetic tendons, stretched to size
Snake around necks and asphyxiate
The intoxicated spirits, and arise
the addiction which lies innate.
​
But as the sun is born in turn,
the lovers look away with spurn.
​

(But most importantly) (2019)
Tell me I breathe fire
When I only blow smoke.
Got to break through the words
When one only chokes.
Spit out bloody teeth.
Reminisces of a tongue.
Trying to find the power
to say the things, I mean.
I’ve always found it hard
To pour out my heart,
And not expect to
break the banks;
Or for rivers to thunder into seas.
But you helped me find
the oceans
That calmed my soul to stillness.
And when I could only fathom
drowning
You lifted me to the surface.
Shattered the rocks that kept me
Under.
while I drifted against the foam
I saw a reflection;
The light of the sun
In the cool of the stream.
Mirrored in the curves
Of your cheeks,
And the stardust
Of your bronze eyes.
Tell me what it means
When the sunlight trickles
Down your face.
How nothing else could be
As promising as the
Rain droplets that shimmer in
The locks of your hair.
And how the wind, when it blows
Through your clothes,
takes you so softly into
the air and sky.
​
I’d like to see the stars
Be as beautiful as you.
The only warming glow when
the rest of the world
Is consumed by darkness.
The trees could try to be
As strong; the flowers as sweet.
The water to carry life
Like you carry yours.
Fire could never be
as passionate
and ignited as the flames
in your veins and blood,
as you conquer your dreams.
Even if the aspects of the world:
(The specks; the dust;
the corners of the earth)
mimicked your footsteps,
they’d never match
how you make my heart grow.
how you gave me sanity
In an insane world.
blessed me with care
and tenderness,
In manners I thought
Impossible.
There will never be
enough words
To thank you.
I will give you the
Universe
As you have gifted me
Infinity.
(But most importantly)
…
​
I will love you
Endlessly.

The Right To My Body (2019)
As I sit and wonder here
Who owns the right to my body.
The ability to touch and feel,
Grab or push or hold.
Who has the right to follow my body
Wherever it may carry me,
Who takes my space
As their own.
Who thinks they have the right
To take it is as their own.
Who has the right to my body.
The right to hold what isn’t theirs,
Pinch it in secrecy
And wear a mask
In the crowd where those cannot see,
Or do, and take no notice.
Freedom to act in malicious intent
And steal my safety
Because others have given right to my body.
Take their claws over my legs,
My thighs, my arms,
Move fingers passed the line
And snatch the right to my body.
Dig stares into my body
Like I am prey,
As they take stance as predators
And forget my heart
As they take right to my body.
Snicker and grimace,
Say words to taunt me,
Claim me,
Belittle me,
Take right to my body.
Who has right to take my body.
To see me as their doll,
Their plaything,
Their next accomplishment.
Sweet victory.
Who has right to my body,
The body which I have nurtured to grow.
I have healed.
I have comforted when cold,
When alone.
Who has the right to my body,
One I have painted in art and colours,
Journeyed with.
Started adventures and made triumphs.
Loved others. Held others in my arms when the weight of the world kept them on their knees.
Who has the right to my body
Which I have hurt unkindly;
Taken for granted,
Starved and burnt,
Yet it has forgiven me.
It knows how much I need it,
How much I truly love it
As it carries and protects me
And helps me to discover greatness.
Who has the right to my body.
The body that has no owner.
That does not deserve to be taken,
Hurt,
Stolen,
Beaten,
Invaded.
But loved as it loves to,
And to live a life
Until it is joined with
The growing ground.

The Snake In The Grass (2018)
Splinters of green. Emerald Shards.
Silver-gold specs of sand.
The ground burned down by the Sun
Upon the drying land.
Low, so low to the earth and dust
Leaves like hands that hold the rain
and stalks and spindles twisting
To course the water-veins.
Entwined in weeds growing tall
A ribbon of scales slithering.
The bending of its back morphing
onto pastures forever-withering.
The pigments scarlet and coal
That coast the crust of the globe
So wicked in their beauty.
So daring to behold.
The skin appearing to shimmer
with a coat of silk-like slime
But so often is deceived
And misjudged in other eyes.
For the grounds that doth embrace
Know the sheath is not as such
But soft like velveteen-clouds
That caresses to the touch.
And the power of the creature
To be touching life and death,
And be born again exquisitely
But not take a different breath.
When the old is but outgrown.
Falls off like flakes of snow.
And reap the seeds of rebirth.
New flesh that shall be sewn.
The energy of this cycle
That turns and turns with vigour
And bestows green-envy in others
Unable to stitch grace in rigour.
This creature defined so lowly
And Machiavellian in its glide
Can shed the falseness of its back
And to its truth abide.
The God of Metempsychosis
Hiding within the strands of life.
On a throne drawn from stone
Rule with decay and rife.
In the spines of grass and lush.
The ground that drinks the daylight
A being that revives its heart
And its own story doth rewrites.
The world as it should follow
And lead by serpent reason
And turn and face the integrity
Of our own recounting seasons.