He rises, impotent.
She watches while
his life pools,
his dread grows,
and then;
nothing.
Occasional poetry and prose. Sometimes melancholy, sometimes happy. Original photos from around the place.
Tag: poetry
Not a tender beat in that heart.
Cramp-like pain in the chest, and a headache that never stops.
The ink-black horrors when my eyes close.
With mouths peeled apart, as if to engulf.
A dark blue light with flickering shadows, watching everything as if from a fire.
A jade elephant sentry, at the gate to the red hill.
Smiling greasy faces in bliss oblivious, is it a warning?
Effortlessly fingerpainted masterpieces of a certain style I made in my mind.
Distracted and gone, but then back, almost but never.
Suddenly, you can’t remember the last time you breathed.
Realisation: a death of the self.
He’s not breathing.
Vancouver is a trapezoid.
London is grown-up.
San Francisco is a garbage pile of creative genius.
Los Angeles is pretend.
Venice is mythical.
Sheffield is an anchor of cold hard rock.
Peterborough is L-shaped.
Manila is delicious.
Portland is a haze.
Orlando is glistening skin.
Chico is coffee at home.
Ypres is Cafés and falling off chairs.
Dublin is musical.
Frankfurt is on time with sauce udders.
Hong Kong is a blurry queue.
Barcelona is sunny sandwiches.
Milan is exposed to the world.
New Orleans is drunk and in love.
Baltimore is Old Bay.
Edinburgh is a whisky volcano.