Friday, April 29, 2016


anxious and empty
murmuring words to myself
as in the desert

myself murmuring
anxious and empty dry words
blowing with the sand

as in the desert
murmuring words to myself
anxious and empty

Sunday, April 17, 2016


I am younger there
the door has been painted since
my hands tremble now

Thursday, April 14, 2016


light swirls from within
past scrub grass burnt by the sun
majestic whirling

Monday, April 11, 2016

Friday, April 8, 2016


words flat on a page
are like a six string guitar
waiting to be strummed

Thursday, April 7, 2016


my honey is made
of words dropped onto the page
in my own language

Tuesday, April 5, 2016


just saying the word
causes an itch all over
some words have power

Saturday, April 2, 2016


work pays with fatigue
the pure wages of the poor
in need of rich sleep