Scribbly Gum

These are the traces

of our immature effort

before breaking free

into a new world

Retrograde

This is the 7th poem written with Bree Leto. It has always been a joy to write with Bree.

Inspiration erupted
when you crashed into my orbit
I should’ve been glowing
and we should’ve been shining
Instead
We are going backwards
and I am watching myself in retrograde
Shrinking into the dark spot
Tainting the silver moon

I wish
some strings were not pulled
some turns were not taken
I wish
the luminescence of your existence
was enough to light our path

Two hearts aligned
should have beat into
a new song of tomorrow
But as you shift forward
I drift backwards
alone

Once Was

I once was

someone’s love of my life

I once was

someone’s destiny

I once was

someone’s forever home

I once was

someone’s secret life

I once was

someone’s dull ache

I once was

someone’s lousy lover

I once was

real, imaginary or fictional

In the end

I was nothing to them

but a past tense

Less is More

You fill your fantasy

with me with a whip

in that discreet outfit

ready to pleasure you

Marks of excitement

are visible

all over your body

waiting to receive

No pain inflicted

No scream of delight

I stay on the screen

You soak in sweat and seed

Ripper

This is a collaboration with Stephen, thank you for writing with me. If you like reading a good thriller, check out his book Beneath the Surface.

Shadows lurk in dark alleys
Death walks a sturdy stride
No sense of guilt he carries
He feels no need to hide

Precious daughters went astray
Roaming White Chapel streets
Outcast in a city so rich
Devoid of mercy, as he seeks

Saying he wants company
Of a woman so fair
As he pulls out his knife
Into flesh he will tear

They say he’s but a ghost
Out to exact his revenge
The law does their utmost
The crimes never avenged

From Lovers to Passersby

They used to think

they would be forever

written into each other’s poetry

They used to say

they would express

happiness, sadness, fear, anger

in stanzas

But life took them

by surprise

In the end

they expressed disgust

towards each other

in prose

Feeling Like Myself

Balmoral beach, Sydney, Australia

I feel alive

With salt in my hair

Sand between my toes

Sunburn on my cheeks

I am free

Hidden

I am not ready

For the world to see

My deepest thoughts

About you

I bury them

Between lines of a story

In an ode to nature

Even

Among a bunch of old photos

Fading away faster

Than my memory

Student for Life

Living Poetry prompt – Back to school

School was where I was alive, probably for all the wrong reasons.

I wonder if the hairpin I wedged between the joints of that old wooden desk still there.

Will he still remember the girl who painted his toes black in Chinese calligraphy class?

Are there remnants of the notes being passed between friends?

Is the dining hall still the battlefield between the bullies and the avengers?

Have the little bridge and the stream underneath kept all the secret promises and heartbreak murmurs?

School taught me life lessons beyond foundational education.

I carry all the history into the world outside the campus and continue being a student for Life.