poetry, shorts

Snow Globe Girl

Did it scare you,
When you realised that the top of your head
touched the stars in my universe?

That’s how I saw it you know.
Like a snow globe world encased in fragile glass.
Once you were a spec of swirling snow. You grew.

I had to climb ladders stacked on ladders to reach you,
But the stars are so much further away than they look,
And so was every inch of you.


Repeat Repeat Repeat

Originally written as a spoken word poem

Tell me again, Love,
why we were so confined.
I have it memorised, trust me but repeat.
repeat, hear, beg for a repeat, repeat. Rewind rewind, rewind.

Can you simplify it, Love?
I’m always drunk when it needs repeating, so simplify a little more.
You know I can’t leave it alone
You know I won’t believe it’s done.

Then where will be be?

Sober I’m red faced, can’t ask, what a waste,
The thing is that I have it memorised:
sober, drunk, asleep, unaware, insane, angry, upset –
every repeat like a hit,

“We were both messed up back then, and now it’s too late.”

Missed chances, shitty counselling and prescription pills.
Then: university – opposite ends of the country,
and I’m smoking, drinking, joking, not able to pay the bills.
You never reply, you never pick up and soon I forget to try.
I watch our collective inability to wait, converse, date.

‘We were both messed up back then, and now it’s too late’.

I hate begging for the repeat, but I need it,
particularly at a bus stop, 3AM on New Year ’s eve,
last time I’ll see you for months, and the thought’s too hard to conceive.
So with the memories of midnight imprinted on our lips
I’m gonna need our excuse

Because hey: ‘We were both messed up back then, and now it’s too late’.



Three short poems submitted in a poetry anthology, 2014, AS Creative Writing.

Alliterative allure

You kissed me and I felt fire
in your lips and teeth and tongue,
and I ignored the bites and burns,
in favour of your fervour.



She remembered the past in framed photos
Heavily edited, highly posed,
Brutally selected.



I envy the quiet rain
That lulls you to sleep
I am the storm that scares you.

Shouting at the skies
Rather than just whispering
My words while you sleep.

I envy delicacy
softness and quiet:
Obviously I envy




Submitted in a poetry anthology, 2014, AS Creative Writing. 

You can roll your tongue,
And you got it from your Mother.
You’re hair colour is your grandmothers
(Father’s side).

You learned to bite back
From TV, and teen teardowns,
and it made me laugh,
(and cry and rage and want to die)

You’re eyes look like your Father’s
but his have laugh lines and yours
examine my faults.
(How similar to your mother)

You learned to punch,
when you were nine.
You punched the wall once.
(I was scared I could crumble like that plaster)

You smile like your brothers;
easily, often, and brilliantly,
with chubby cheeks, and crooked teeth.
(Only not so often anymore)

You got your anger from me.
I pushed, and pushed,
and formed it in fire
(like a ancient smith makes swords)

(How proud I am, to have helped make you).