Thread

Sewing words in an intricate design Weaving a tapestry with thread so fine But you’re not expecting the snap.

Hijo de la Luna Part 1

The moon was waning as she looked up at it, imploring; dark eyes full of crystalline tears. “Please…” The wind teased at her long ebony hair and she shivered down to the depths of her soul. She had heard the moon before; why was it silent now, of all times? The trees chattered and gossiped…

Ad Conquer Amor: The Introspection of Cesare

History, it seems, is not a force that is kind to love; it wears against it with such a friction that it sets on fire- any loves that are remembered are those that are still ablaze. The rest are ashes and embers and smoke. I know what I will be remembered for, and I know it isn’t what I want to be remembered for.

The Battle

Life and Love: two absurdist games You’re meant to lose, But what happens when it mends, rather than maims? When you don’t have to choose, No fingerprint kisses are the same To cheek or lips or nose or wrist; When that body doesn’t fit in your frame To the end of the night, there’s a…

The Place Where Love Comes To Die

(The debut poem (at least on this blog!) of Taylor Donoughue-Smith. Enjoy!) This is the place where love comes to die In a field full of emptiness and space See the dog walkers struggling to maintain control See the people looking vacantly at the river bank See yourself in the middle of it all, thinking,…

Waking Up

It was cold this morning. I wanted to be curled in bed, Snoring and being boring. But an awkward thought fell into my head… . Ice-white sheets Frozen pillows Outside it sleets, But inside it shows Even the weather knows. . It’s because there’s just one thing missing- Yes, missing- it’s too terrible to be…

SONNET 130 RETOLD

My Mistresses eyes are nothing like the sun; Because eyes don’t fucking burn; If snow be white,  why then her breasts are most certainly not made of snow. If hairs be wires, dark cables emanate from her skull. I have seen roses (certainly not those of Tudor) damasked, red and white, (Not Liz.) But my…

Runaway Rapunzel

Rapunzel stays locked up in her terraced tower most days, Says the only place she wants to go is the bookstore and thats away-a-ways. Says she prefers to be alone, But everytime I tiptoe up she’s always talking on her cell phone. . Says she wanted to look mature, So she chopped off all that…

The Pauper’s Litany

Don’t call me a writer, or a poet. This comes easy to some people. They get to own it. Not me. I sit down at my keyboard and bleed. Red words and too much of a single pulsing idea- That’s not what you want to hear. Don’t call me your idol or your hero. I’ve…

Be My Poem

Be my poem and we can show them There’s more to life than magic carpet rides Taken through rolled-up skies . Be my poem and it could all just be, Life’s not too long or too short- It’s a small, tall and stately bottle of port. . Be my poem and you shall be more…

There’s Some Reasons Why, But Not 13

(The the first in a series by Contributor B, who wishes to remain anonymous) Okay, This isn’t like the Netflix show, where everything is darkness and mysteries and intrigue. If life were really like that, I wouldn’t be sat here, talking to an imaginary person while my brain refuses to shut off. When I was a…

Haiku: Left

Soon it will be lost This rich wonderful green And money is left.