I haven’t posted in a good while for me – there is good reason. I am currently working on both a novel and my university dissertation so I am very busy. I will be back with some poetry soon. In the next few months back properly. Thanks for everything
there is no other peace quite like this—
ne’er did i know a calm of such great claim.
claim to me, without force or twist of will—
I cannot place, I do not know its name.
I did not knock or ask or seek to find,
no hinge did creak beyond my finger’s touch.
my lips were resolutely stopped of praise,
I was not on the lookout for this much.
the sculpted world does sit around me now.
a masterpiece knows it’s faults— it points them
out, and gives us tools to sweetly right them.
an artist pokes to deeper thoughts allow.
such art is given us with which to play—
i know of One who does not go away.
sticky bubbles dried on the spoon, it was past midday. coffee was cold, still sweet. sugar in a glass jar and a dark dark wooden table, rich. i thought of squirrels and nests and felt sorry.
i saw bendy black banisters and wire lamplights – a stack of highchairs and three girls in round glasses.. spectacled beauty. my insides jumped and milk mixed sorely with acid.
he has long long hair – maybe he is lightning. i should have stayed, oh i should have stayed but is not one’s own company the best to enjoy while one is still bearable?
ONE! TWO! THREE!
three gongs on some hidden chime. a glinting silver cup rises and falls, bread is broken. it melts in my mouth like snow, the dark red wine is strong and bitter. i looked to the windows as i walked to my seat.
here is my golden pen. it is not enough no never enough not beautiful enough for mother’s day – nothing nothing is! i want to give her the world and everything in it.
to be before the loveliest of views,
is to have your mother as your muse.
i wrote a sonnet….. here it is on SD
that juts across the path of shimmered stone
and wrenches minds from warm sleep’s gentle swell.
i woke amid the covers quite alone—
my love was gone. but ne’er to keep away,
i rest in calm assurance of this truth.
he dozes miles north and hours too,
for now i tumble from his palace roof
atop his hillock green. An ample hue
to paint pastoral dreams that sooth and calm,
but oh! i would i’d rest upon his arm
and let that cruel ring of loud alarm
awake us two, from easy peace or fright
and leave the tempest raging to the night.
Lois describes herself as a “confused english student,” though one quickly finds a polished, charming poet in her work. She has an elegant style that compliments her keen insight and whimsical sensibilities. It is a pleasure to present her…
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possible my favourite collaboration i’ve done to date. ‘in her element’ up on Whisper and the Roar…
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