Twice9
Escher/ Hersham Surrey
Living and writing in a little place called Escher right now. / A country girl at heart and enjoying the small town vibe after big ol' London got too big. / Writing about some things that have happened in this crazy world mostly matters of the heart. / Yes, and reading some Shakespeare (and a bit or Carol Ann Duffy - Poet Laurette who refuses to write poems for the Queen - you go girl). / 30 soon. Hmmm.
the rain is coming
it is hot & wet
& ten o’clock
when you turn up
in a black
cab
a red
hibiscus
in your hair
it is hot & wet
& ten o’clock
when we talk
on the roof
in a high
bombardment
of positive ions
it is hot & wet
& ten o’clock
when the last
hopeful swoop
of a fruit bat
finds a limb & is still
so some
thing will
happen it will
the rain is coming
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
I miss you sea
I miss you in the morning
I miss your fingers
and the faces you trace
the faces you assume in sand
I miss the feel of you
cool on my skin
I miss the sting of you
but most of all I miss you when I sleep
when you whisper the most
I know you are there
you are a quiet chaos I don't quite hear
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
when I last saw you
you said you wanted a break
from the grind of being apart
you pulled me to the floor
in a torrent of please
and be with me today
and I know by the lick of you
that every drop is true
and it's easy for me to play a part
you are the flood I compare my tears to
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
with two flat thumbs
I am trying
to work
a couple of knots
out of your shoulder blade
one not is you
one definitely not is me
yet I'm tracing
warm circles
kneading
the cut of your spine
*needing
the cut of your spine!*
should I?
should I
be kneading
the distance
between us thin ?
I could complete
this instant massage
by simply needing
the scent of your skin
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
when you came back
it snowed
& we took photos.
There were flakes
of sleet
in your hair
about to melt...
Later
the moon
was a frozen
coin
and I was a flake
watching
from a window
pane
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 9:48 AM UTC
there is hope here the morning sun
leaves loaves of warm light on the doorstep
after he left - leaving a letter –
she realised the room had no windows
the light claimed a green pear
as she drank sweet tea
at 10.09 she was required
to generate her own light:
in Café Gigi she generated her own light
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 7:16 AM UTC
we think we understand gravity
we think it is weak
we assume some apples will fall
in fields of much less colour
the sound is flatter
the leaves are damper
gravity hangs too heavy on some
heavier than we think on some
or admit on some
it is natural to reduce it
we all know a guy who says
some apples just fall ka-plunk
and that's gravity get over it!
knowing we can't actually
get over it
not really!
I know a guy who thinks
gravity works in multiple dimensions
and we can only account
for part of its strength
so the rest remains felt but unseen
That would explain the dimmer light
the clenched off drowning of sound;
that would explain this half-lit world!
the blurred nerves in the going of motion…
I have adjusted accordingly.
I have a skeleton crew
to keep things ticking over
so I can take the weight
of all those other places.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
everyone who passes through the house of James
plays a part in their second story story
Nick is not of the kitchen
but he’s ghosting there
and he tries
he tries with words
he tries with dance
he tries so hard we barely see him!
James is thirsty!
and that’s the other story...
He's drying *******
on an old gas cooker
when ‘Phelie blows in
on a colleague
o’ Koz Bar leaves
hi poising cat-ready
on a brown couch
on a couch
that remembers no shape
though she tries
she tries to make an impression
on our blurred nerves too
beginning with alrigh'
which is hi too but with feeling
this hi assumes we know
drama gril and da Richmond crew
And I try to say
I mean I am trying to say
the couch remembers no shape
I have no memory
of drama teachers or michelle
yelling again darling with feeling this time
then she tells
me what *a lonely time
it has been since the…addiction -*
michelle poising there
upon the word
like a Lepidopterist’s pin
on au-then-tic-i-ty -
isn’t it enough that I said it?
now that it’s a dead thing
it spreads its terrible wings
and 'Phelie double drops
her second story hello hello
we lean into a kiss hello
her lips are not dry
though she smokes her mouth un-wet
she tries to say hello
by laughing at
I've given up not-smoking
and we talk
and kiss a fresh hello
undress hello
touch hello
leading to a breathless hello hello hello
and now I am saying,
again darling with feeling this time
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 4:33 AM UTC
Willesden - from a cab -
is vein-blue at four-o-two
transfusion complete
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
this is just to say
you are my
stolen
plum London
and I can't wait
to sink my teeth
into the cool
bruised-light
of a late summer
Saturday
night
please forgive me…
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC