My tongue sharpened today

Angles fell off it like classroom fancies

Rationalised to a point, its first act

Was to knock out my fangs from behind.


I stumbled about the house

Slopped through the bathroom door

And foamed at the toilet seat, a

Wave broken over a rim of briny coral.


My salt winked about the walls, around the tap, between the wiped tiles

In the shower head of porous sponge

The seaweed in the pipes crawled up

And drowned me in the sickly sweet.


Downstairs smelt the same, logically the sea dumped down

Underwater fish glided past my window, all with the same

Grim face against the mirrors, aping the ocean

With me trapped inside.


I turned on the same song, fifteen times,

The sound tried to reach me with such ambition

But it floated to the top, belly up in its bubbles

Ridiculous, I scratched the date on the seafloor and entered the kitchen.


Drips everywhere, grease stalactites, from the tiles, the yawning oven, the spatulas

A Cretaceous museum where savagery is kept

In little plastic boxes, with clear peelable lids

A fresh, messy ****.


In the hall the grey light descends through slit windows

Colour settling at the bottom like grit, all the greys so tall

Give the narrow rectangle an aftertaste of dust

Just one keeper before me


It devours my key, hacking as it gobbles

But it does not anticipate my twist

I gut it from inside, it spits its meal back at me

And I swing its limp, dead frame 90 degrees.


Stepping out feels like a moonwalk, with Houston's neutral formulas

Unheeded in my ear, finally I can greet the clouds, that probably escaped,

Like me, fumes from the chimney

Pale and fading away from lack of auspicious sun.

Her heart was filled
By anger and pain
Her lips, wounded
Pale and bleeding
Screaming, crying
Covered by cold shadows
Nobody will see her
She's in the dark

I watched the hostas grow
as spring turned from the snow

I know that time has passed
but where did it go?

does it stroll past each day,
returning again and again
or does it change in speed
and move with the wind?

each day feels long and dull and lonely
but new leaves appear still, slowly

I thought that I would grow
during these days spent all alone.
but the hostas are far ahead of me

I'm glad I have more time to grow

Words can make or break someone
Don’t contribute to other people’s ordeal

They may forgive what you said or did
But never forget how you made them feel
As physical bruises are easier to deal
Emotional scars take forever to heal.

Mindfully articulate the words you say
Avoid your statements going astray

Don’t let your mood dictate your words
You’ll regret later if said absurd

While commenting Be precise and kind
Keep other person’s feelings in mind
Keep sensitivity & compassion twined
Better to talk once concept refined

Words are encyclopaedia of thought
Be mindful of the purpose sought
While communicating, keep a subtle balance
Speak if words are better than silence.