Tuesday

The Bed

Oh to lie
with you
in that bed
from the 80’s

arms thread
through
wrought iron
platted twirls

bodies
entwined
silky moans
honey sighs
spread across that
big baroque bed








Finger Dance

Did I dream you last night
or was it you that led me
to the room next door
smoky and dense
thick tongue
rich red

filled my mouth
hot and moist
we fell into eachother
Arms at my sides
too weakened
to hold you

FaintingFlyingFloating away
Drenched in bliss





Wednesday

Press Play

been on pause
stuck in a lacuna
a debris space

while
Zimbabwean man
is flung from
Xenophobic train

Ego matters of
slow magnitude
midst a world
bleeding

Time to
smile outward
lock fingers
with brothersothers







New bride

Tortoise and the hare
Thought I was safe from
the sun’s cancerous glare
dared to shade my eyes
blot out rose tinted rays
So the sun deserted
leaving warmth
to a shiny new heir.

Peer Pressure

Fallen behind
the crowd
Mid-age slump
crawl and groan
off miniature throne
Not that much
Any more

Face in the Mirror

Graceful evolution
from butterfly to slug
Joplin hair, wild abush
eyes dragooned red,
puffy and dead

Will survive yet again,
another heightened day
Even the dread days
are better than dead days
of which there are plenty

Thursday

Lonely Life

People
bump people
fromallsides

skating ants
we glide at near miss

smileandgreet
deadpan
socialisewithdrink
monotone

words
more
guardedbanter
empty

lonelylife
even for a
motherwife

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Tuesday

Africa in not my land

Head on clash
Voices smash
Shriek on shriek
Phone goes crash

Dash home for
face-on-face
confront
with domestic

Try and
calm her
but she seems
possessed

“Don’t touch me”
she spits
eyeballs
like pellets

Let’s sit

We speak
her words
mutate

I’m wrong
She’s right
She’s black
I’m white

Thursday

Milton Pool

Breathing into a bag,
boy on a beach masturbates,
glue fumes sucked deeply.

Small space away, toddler squeals
Telly tubby swimsuit stained
with chocolate ice-lolly.

On guard,
mother watches

legs spread,
cock in hand,
still pumping,

broken only
by concave
inhaled plastic.

“It’s cold” shrieks the toddler

“Some spare change madam?”

Why does your friend have to
masturbate on the beach?

“I know I tell him”

I’ll give you money when I go,
but only if you leave us alone.

Life Begins At

four times ten
or
ten times four

No matter
the adding
Ain’t
young any more

That forty thing
The half way
Ping

Got a definite tempo
A fear rising
Sting

Turn the beast
on its head

It sure is
better in bed

Still
     Slipping,
               Slipping,

Sipping away

at the options
still
open

the
dreams
still to
grow

Wednesday

THE MD

Are the surest externally

All threadbare internally?

It might not seem

But Im a timid thing

Holding a weighty life

Which I have chosen

Empties

Society crafted a happy little solution

to make our stay more tolerable -

I bought into it

but now Im heavy

Im returning my purchase





Tuesday

In Your Arms

             Saw a tree today

  with arms as wide as the universe

             and stilts to hold

            the weight of them

Monday

LACUNA

I’m free now
but not free enough
to know
what to do with myself.

Not Another Blogging Poet

I am a poet who has found a platform. Constructed a gallary space to house my work.  I am grateful to any reader who visits...to all that engage with my words.  Feel free to comment.  Criticism is very welcome!