17.0k · Jun 2012
Paradoxical Porn (one stroke)
victoria Jun 2012

Whilst often frowning upon mens private pleasures we hide our own toys.

15.2k · Jun 2012
Crimes of Passion
victoria Jun 2012

I am acutely aware of the intesity of feeling  
pouring from her,  
all the way, spurting
and through
the tip
of the sharp pointed knife,
into the effigy,
fashioned from the paper bag
that once held the butcher bought
pound of steak.

My nan, four times married stands at the cooker,
she is impassioned yet oozing anger
and aged only seven
I am able
in that moment
to see
her heart,

Grandad  three, (the first one I knew)
holding his chest.

Nan tries to stop her lips curling
and fails,
her hand
hides the wicked smile
but I saw it,  
as it reaches her eyes  
the splinters of her broken parts.

Grandad four suffered
the same fate as the rest.
Grandad five
never actually married my nan  
though I heard he
was an ever present feature
during and throughout the years between husbands one to four.

Oh how my nan loved,
loved them all
killed them all.  
With passion.

14.0k · Apr 2012
I cry tears of joy for you.
victoria Apr 2012

You will soon be home.
I sit here just bathed, naked

I picture your face
and I'm overcome, flushed.
My heart so full of love
it spills over
flooding my smiling eyes with tears.

They flow through the narrows of my laughter lines
and traverse my cheekbones,
kissing my lips as they pass
landing precisely on my breast buds.

Here they hover to whisper of your love
before forming in droplets, perfect in motion,  
dancing, tracing my excitement
as joy and arousal connect
in the estuary at my loins.

I hear your key as it engages the lock, and my eyes say,
''come and swim  in the joy of my heart''.

10.1k · Nov 2011
Cyber Sex.
victoria Nov 2011

Its only a bit of fun
if with that special someone,
no rules or boundaries,
carnal pleasures it must appease.

So lets set the scene for this occasion
whet your desire for this sensuous liaison.
Indoors or outdoors and what attire,
let us share in this wordy desire.

Lie back and on your words I muse,
a mac,  a blindfold and strappy shoes.
The magical power of imagination,
with a helping hand for  gratification.

Your turn now, let me decide,
which words will depict how you felt inside.
I talk you through to my delicious moments
the way you moved beneath my garments.

A simple pleasure, free to play
though not for all I hasten to say,
For us it bridges the miles apart
a resource too good not to impart.

8.9k · Oct 2011
Playing solo.
victoria Oct 2011

In my mind you are perfection
a choosing of my own delection.
And oh you are my  absolute pleasure
with gentle guidance you find my treasure.
Quick or slow, whatever my desire
my heart does race, my fingers on fire.
A tool of the most delightful kind
no heart to break, no ties that bind.
No need for two,
one player will do
nicely, oh so nicely, thank you.

8.2k · Nov 2014
victoria Nov 2014

like a low howl
on the bank
of eventide
audacious lover
on canting limbs
that had lain so long
in deathly pose.
Now, lambent
blushing fistfuls
of borrowed light
that do nothing
to fend off
the onset of night
where bowing members
fade to calamine
with whispers
of a dawn
not yet seen.

6.5k · May 2015
Thoughtless Pluckers
victoria May 2015

And the weak
lemon sunshine
as if shamed
by the gesture,
a toss of head
so minute
he might
have missed it
but for her woe,
falling tears
those petals pulled
in death throes
silent scream.

victoria Jan 2016

Where to look in a carriage too full
of you
across the way
arms crossed,
and though I sit with hands like sunshine
that would warm us with their touch
there is only the awkward loneliness
of uncomfortable positions,
I'm riding backwards
and it feels like I don't know you.
I wonder, with your forward facing view
if you really can see what is coming
while I can only turn-to in quickening moments,
searching glimpses of destination ideal;
fleeting fixes  
on this too fast-moving train.

5.8k · Jul 2012
Workout (10w/one stroke)
victoria Jul 2012

Pounded fast and hard every muscle aching, hot sticky body.

victoria Jun 2014

A life dimmed
as the sun rose
in room 2
where I captured
last breaths
and her eyes fading light,
releasing them
in the garden
while dwelling
on life cycles
in a still air
with wet wood,
bequeathed by
night-time rains.

The rising sun
filtered through copper beech
in black cherry rays
onto blossoms
that littered the lawn
in a patterned death
of pink paper mache.

And though I had felt
worn and weak of late
I sustain
flamboyant ferns
I am living;
flushed with
sunshine serotonin
as I marvel upon
a horse chestnut
its conical clusters
a blooming grandstand
of rising elephant breath perched
housing dawn's chorus,
a teeming
backdrop of birdsong
where surfs a soul
previously hushed
in the deathly silence
of room 2.

5.3k · Feb 2014
Over the pond and far away
victoria Feb 2014

There were days
I walked on my knees
by the weight of motherhood
and now too;
as my feet fight for firm footing
on a pavement
where I feel water
lapping at my jaws.
of joy and concern
I am,
a battle brimming
in the heart shudder
of this silent look,
our goodbye....
Paling, only
till I see you
as you are,
living your dream.

''live life with a bold heart son,
as if life were too small to contain you''

My son has a new job and will be living in America.
The quote is from a book I read by RJ Ellory , A quiet belief in angels.
5.1k · Dec 2016
Poetry in motion.
victoria Dec 2016

Audrey has hit her parting period,
comfortably poorly this eventide dusk.
There, by way of bare birches,
nature's breath blows a slow breeze,
and the low sun styles its ways
in long shadows and dimming rays.

4.7k · Jun 2016
Quagmires and Quandaries
victoria Jun 2016

She had spells in the thick of her seasons,
hunger breaks
where brooding teased, dark
as the culminating  clouds
that pressed low on her horizons.
Customarily her rains fell full and fast;
inflicting bloody madness,
those sodden hours
where no amount of fancy raiment seemed fitting,
quagmires and quandaries of flesh and faith.

2.7k · Feb 2012
I Feel Good...
victoria Feb 2012

You wash my hair and bathe my skin
intimate moments that I can feel within.
your warmness, when I am bitter and cold
radiates from your beautiful soul.
the flutter of eyelash upon your cheek
the heartfelt declarations of love you speak.
your smiling eyes belay inner tenderness
that arouses me and covers me in your gentle caress.

Even without your knowing touch, you can impart that much.

Your very presence energises my senses
breaking through, challenging all my defenses.
I have some scars and achievements in healing
and this love that is us is frighteningly - appealing

I panick, Im scared of sharing in love, though I'm pulled by the giddiness of feeling so good.

victoria Apr 2013

I cast a look and catch your eyes  
as they finger the hem of my skirt
and I follow an urge to play
for a thrill
and the shudder
that travels before
halting and humming
around knees
locked lest they knock
in their outward swoon
And all the while
my smile belies
best efforts to contain
this satisfied
where your purpose in my mind
has been beautiful
in its completion
...just as  I desired;
like when  I fancy myself
in high heels to masturbate.

victoria Feb 2013

Jaws glanced the floor
as you made the scene
at hale and hearty
where food reigned
and laughter spilt,
raucous we flocked
amid moist meat
lavished in hot spice  
whetting our whistles
on good spirits.
on glass screens
to feel the unseen
saw you
a master of the art  
pulling me flush to your flank
as screaming ribs
expelled shooting stars
in lightning flashes
that arced to my blood red sky
while conscious hips fought
with unwitting urges
and lost to a straddling sea
of other-worldly delights.....

The barman glared
and we the raucous
stopped and stared
as she lost her grip
and supper hit the decks,
exposed in our coloured
intoxication he calls time;
some walk in a war of words
that sees
grips tighten
while others
leave chaperoned
under hitched hems
in unabashed
nylon adjustment
toward a blaze of
hot leather 'neath
thirsty thighs.
alighting into an
enchanting embrace
that paved my path to sleep.

victoria Feb 2015

I cast a look and catch your eyes  
as they finger the hem of my skirt
and I follow an urge to play
for a thrill
and the shudder
that travels
before halting and humming
around knees locked
lest they knock
in their outward swoon
And all the while
my smile
belies best efforts
to contain this satisfied bliss...Here
on this train
where your purpose in my mind
has been beautiful in its completion  I desired;
just like when I fancy myself
in high heels to masturbate.

victoria Sep 2013

Swamped in sensual delight on coastal paths
where Natures descent into disorder
sees days of dragon breath heat
chill in simmering banter with Autumn
while maples and oaks look on
in stages of undress blushing
in their falling foliage,
many are the burdened boughs of braeburn,  
bittersweet their spoils of late summers fruition.

Jumping from my bike, enraptured
I kick up a frenzied fuss of yellowing greens
that whip a breeze around my knees
till there before me
the prickly gift of horse chestnut seen,
such joy is the perfect seed that promises conker kudos.

Eyes catch glimpses of staghorn sumac
flaunting purple panicles, exuberant these conical clusters
line my passage to the music of
lemon gorse exploding its seed in my wake,
here the skylarks song calls from high above
hedgerows teeming with sloe, hips and haws
and lingering insects  fall like drunken fools
that supped last orders from end of season berries
mouth-wateringly ripe their syrup drips from lips
and fingertips stained pink in the pensive rays of dappled sun.

I stop to marvel at soiled beds
where life and death lay side by side
as seeds nestle under blankets of scattered leaves
'neath hawthorns untamed
that bend with the wind
while still their central haven.

How amazing this tilted earth that ends this day
finding me feverishly swaying
to the highs and lows of season and tide
in passionate dance with this nights Harvest moon.

Wirral Way ...the coastal trail that hugs this beautiful peninsula where I reside.
2.5k · Mar 2013
Sweet Magnolia (haiku)
victoria Mar 2013

Fur coats fall; disrobed,
springs stunning striptease reveals
magnolias splendor.

2.4k · Jun 2015
Egremont Ferry
victoria Jun 2015

Where the tide never reached
on a triangle of beach
sat our nan in her coat on hot days.
There in towel capes and cozzies
and new flip flops we'd soar,
down steep Tobin hill
bags and buckets and all
as rubber thongs rubbed
our toes raw.
And from the sorted speck
against the sandstone wall
we ran and we ran into ease
shaking-off the weight
of mothers pre-dayout strains
while the waves washed over our knees.

victoria Aug 2012

Inner chaos gave way to Aquarius full moon, now breathe easy.

2.2k · Aug 2012
Almost love (10w)
victoria Aug 2012

At journeys end all actions had amounted to only thereabout

2.1k · Nov 2011
Naughty - 10 word poem
victoria Nov 2011

lay on my knee
so I can spank thee.

victoria Jul 2013

I'm so embarrassed and I have to admit
I'm just a little scared;
as I arrive for my appointment
I'm going shorter haired

A brief consultation
seems to be the norm
to discuss styles ideas
for my new shape and form

Hollywood, Brazilian,
regular or French
I feel somewhat queasy
and sit down on the bench.

The girl sees my predicament
and smiles a knowing grin,
asks  smooth all over, landing strip
or simply just a trim?

I just don't want to have to sit
cross legged next fortnight,
last wore a bikini in '89
and my pubes were quite a sight

I know my fella would like me smooth
but I'm thinking just a trim
it's strictly for appearance sake
and not his personal whim

Letting her use her initiative,  
I'm not a happy girl
I'm flaming red with an itchy rash,
and bald bar for a curl.

2.0k · Feb 2013
Loving menopause
victoria Feb 2013

Engaging in
this reverie
of self love;
I feel flushed
and flow in this urge
that rides me,
like an easy breeze on the crest of a wave.

1.9k · Apr 2012
Welcome home sweet man.
victoria Apr 2012

My heart is hungry
it feels like it's skipped breakfast and lunch
and it daren't eat
so heavy with expectancy it is
of the approaching evening dish
that is you.
I am going to savour
every piece of you,

My senses will become frantic
in their delight,
so appealing to my eyes are you,
and your arousing aroma
permeates to my soul.
Oh how you will taste,
how your sweetness will linger
on my tongue.
I think I may devour every part of you.
I'm ravished.

victoria Apr 2015

Jaws glanced the floor
as you made the scene
at hail and hearty
where food reigned
and laughter spilt,
raucous we flocked
amid moist meat
lavished in hot spice  
whetting our whistles
on good spirits.
on glass screens
to feel the unseen
saw you
a master of the art  
pulling me flush to your flank
as screaming ribs
expelled shooting stars
in lightning flashes
that arced to my blood red sky
while conscious hips fought
with unwitting urges
and lost to a straddling sea
of other-worldly delights.....
..The barman glared
and we the raucous
stopped and stared
as she lost her grip
and supper hit the decks,
exposed in our coloured
intoxication he calls time;
some walk in a war of words
that sees
grips tighten
while others
leave chaperoned
under hitched hems
in unabashed
nylon adjustment
toward a blaze of
hot leather 'neath
thirsty thighs,
alighting to an
enchanting embrace
that paved my path to sleep.

victoria Apr 2012

It happened this morning....
thoughts passing through, reminding me  in earnest,
for I cannot embellish the sheer honesty
felt through my childhood eyes.
My heart a repository of feelings
that have both lightened and darkened my adult soul.
of schoolboy crushes that spoke to me in tears and heartaches,
of sibling rivalries
and acting with carefree abandon only to be bowled over
by gut wrenching fear of guilt and sin
that was the heavy burden of a moral discipline.

Visits to nans where we could eat ourselves sick,
spoilt for choice
still now, I struggle with 'enough'.
Caravan holidays where we were four in a bed,
wet in the mornings such was my sisters nocturnal enuresis.
First up best dressed, I now see that being eldest had some advantages.
Long hot summer days with never enough hours to fill,
the wonder of slot machine treasure, and sand castle pride.

Friends that brought shared joys and
those that could crumple your heart
and throw it to the wolves
as is the cruelness of kids,
I think everyone of us has been a wolf.
The bewilderment of lifes realities,
divorce and death,
death of our brother,
my matter-of-factness followed
by intense sorrow
brought about when
I saw his pajamas on a younger sibling.

And of these abundant childhood memories that layer my heart,
some slip before being grasped or are simply ignored  
others called forth in adulthood to inform their knowing in the now;
often allowing another lesson to be learnt;
and how hindsight pokes its reminder
with its  'I knew I should haves'.
that's what happened this morning.......

1.8k · Sep 2011
Jellyfish in the Dock
victoria Sep 2011

Left the car up in Chinatown,
a night of music was what was going down,
the promise of fun mixed with alcohol,
bands and venues galore so off I troll.
Made me way down to Slater Street,
there an old mate I did meet,
happy days are here again,
no worries in me head and I'm off the chain.
The Shipping Forecast was worth a look
and what a find were Picturebook.
A night of dancing a night of pleasure,
doing what I love that's the treasure.
A bombed out church a new venue for I,
ambience and music and a view of the sky.
Men in surgical masks did their stuff,
it just gets better I cant get enough.
See old faces as we go,
oh the alcohol it did flow,
Perfect company perfect night
full of fun and delight.
Time to rest my weary head,
can't drive yet and I need a bed.
I get an offer with a dockside view,
mad how some things just happen for you.
Walk and giggle sway and wobble,
curse me heels on the cobble.
A glorious dock lit by moonlight,
I take a peek oh what a sight,
jelly fish in the water so black,
a sobering moment I'm taken aback .
Grateful for the comfort off comes the lycra,
the alternative a blanket in the back of me micra.
Me perfect mate is the perfect gent,
a warm embrace and asleep I went.
Up with the sun the dock is so pretty,
off I head through the city.
The walk is amazing I take in all the sights,
people off to work, some ending their nights,
Liverpool in the morning so radiant and bright,
then I remember with fervent delight
those jellyfish in the dock by the silver moonlight.

I just thought to add, that the men in surgical masks are a band called 'clinic' and Picturebook also a band first seen that night.  The dock is the 'Albert Dock' (regenerated) Liverpool.
victoria Mar 2013

Bereft of beauty
these distorted yesterdays
I run till I drop
basking 'neath forsythia,
heralding in seasons joy.

victoria Apr 2012

Our union lacked passion.
Throughout, my hearts eyes were clouded
like nicotine stained windows
muted were the rays of my individuality,
wife and mother,
no other tolerated.

So I lived in this perpetual dusk,
with its vestiges of colour and beauty oppressed
by the unavoidable encroaching dark that was his ways.
I did shine occasionally,
on his brightest days I could be happy
but only
if he was the sun itself.

My love of learning new no such bounds,
it persevered throughout, inching towards and
after a decade, achieving its goal,
My soul would record this growth,
born of my hearts desire.

Why? you may ask......

... it was this;
I saw in him 'normality' for he followed the wrong'un,
that peice of shit who was the ruin of my youth.

So then, what was it that he saw in me,
what was the attraction  
that he later sought to quash?
There were some nice times,
when he forgot who he was trying to be
and just, was.
Those when he'd had a few drinks,
and he'd lighten up.
There was no happy ending though,
for a bigger monster than him
took me

I am really happy now, this was about then, it makes me pleased to see how I've grown.
victoria Feb 2016

There had been
a gathering gloom
since this day,
left behind
an intolerant door
that closed in uneasy drafts.
she questioned lies
like caring about housework
and make up
then found relief in not giving in to bother,
on those afternoons
she garbed long cardies
in the same manner
she wore her favourite dressing gown
thinking comfort was just a matter of lines,
to where hers were drawn.
The ones crisscrossing over were tough,
in such a way as a slow death
always draws a crowd,
those grim gawkers within
whose dark thoughts
drip from eyes
ebbing in the stains
of her waning smile.
And even the most fine footprints
left out in the snow
wash grey,
like the paling sunshine
on her milky flesh veneer when she awoke,
in a familiar room
where the door and walls seem at odd angles
And she notices in a heartbeat
the wrong in her world;
feels it in the off rhythms of each cancelled future.

victoria Jun 2013

There were days I woke
with eyes that wore the colour
of the weight on my back..
I would dress in a curse gathered
from what was already there.  

Stitching myself into a patchwork of hues
I made squares of devotion and suffering,
some of comfort held only by fragile threads;
like fathers faded benevolence
torn at the seams,
such are the strains of departures.

I've learnt that love the same-over
offers no certainty in the familial and familiar.  

Unfolding from this phase of confinement
the creases of me reveal so much un-shared.
I peep through layers
and watch desire engaging in childish fantasies 
fickle, unfaithful
stoked by a loneliness
where a mass of tangled tenets
give way to battles with content
seeking victories over self.

victoria Feb 2013

loves potion
moves in the motion
of  midriff shift and
hiccuped breath, felt
in the heart swell
of musics slow
stirs me
in spirit,
in joy
and in the
deepest sorrow

1.7k · Sep 2012
victoria Sep 2012

You gave me lilies,
in their mesmerising
milky tinged outers
blending to a perfect pink
I was
intoxicated in
pungent perfume
peaches and cream hues.
A longer look
belied this
veritable veneer,
that eventually revealed
the  complex
deep throated
cerise speckled
trumpet funnel
formed from
tongue lashing petals
splayed, exposing
spearheaded stamens
their rich
rusty redness
a ruse
that unwittingly,  
indelibly stains
even the slightest glance of skin,
dried blood..

1.7k · Mar 2015
Deep seated
victoria Mar 2015

Sitting third pew from the back
always the left side; here
where seat choice can reflect self esteem,
her young sons friend passes by
with his father who's the guy
that frequents fancy Nancy four semis down;
while his mother urges them forward
to a pew front of center.

...Queuing for communion
silent Acts of Contrition
trip from her tongue, verbatim  
but she can only take a Blessing because
Jesus' body feels too big to swallow.

Finding their ways
back on breaths of beeswax and incense
a congregation joins on knees
in their secret knowings, contemplating
penance and th3 means to make amends.
And when its over
she steps outside into Spring,
just poised
like the nature about her, ready to expand.

victoria Feb 2013

Here, waiting we watch  
as my son plays, glancing I note
you're posture perfect,  
with a smooth alabaster face
cracked only
by a rose pink painted tight jaw smile
that you regimentally pull back each time it weakens.

Your scent of opulent flowers floats
amid thinly disguised wafts of camphor
and ill fitting teeth tinkle as you nod and startlingly say;
''his eyes;  just like my husbands..who
would have been 97 today''.. ..
and in the sad silent moment that follows
we both hear the slap of your teardrop
hitting the tortoiseshell clutch held tightly in your lap.

Your name is called and you stand, tall;
the felted fur leopard print hat no match
for the turquoise gaberdine mac and red patent shoes.
Gifted with, you exude an eccentric elegance
that politely ignores the damp seat you leave
instead your smile shines its goodbye through
perfect powder blue eyes
matched by veins on delicate fingers
that kindly stroke his chubby cheeks
as you pass on your way.

victoria Sep 2014

Where we worked light of day
with hearts in hand
till we wore the night on our eyes

Greeting in the darkness
-as the sundown on blushing pink skies.

1.7k · Apr 2012
More Junk Mail
victoria Apr 2012

typical opportunist, you
take my sorrow and compassion
of your mothers death and use it
like you used her in life
take take take

don't ask me about the son
who is no more than an after-thought
to you

don't tell me you liked how I was dressed
at the funeral
or that you liked it when I hugged you,
reading that turns my stomach

my compassion was not given to be abused,
foolishly, I thought you may have been
just a little bit sad

my heart hurt
as you stood at the graveside
handcuffed to your escort

I'd give anything not to feel
right now, not to feel
these words in my hand and this anger
and I'm only sorry that that wonderful
all embracing Dubliner
your mother
who loved life and gave all
suffered  you

as I do
as will your son too.

1.6k · May 2013
A warm embrace of sorts
victoria May 2013

Switching on to what turns me on
sees me glint colourful through porous escapades,
a rainbow flaunting  shamelessly elemental;
driven on waves of hormonal freedom,
naked this solace of self ..Simple.

Connections' conversely complex,
risk fraught ....risk need;
where loneliness stirs like my bare feet on sand,  
with hopeless toes that try to anchor if just for the turn of the tide
or until, ears attune to whispers of the changing wind.....
Here, waiting can see chance pass by the lazy heart,
tilted heavy
in its overcoat
of reluctance to offer,
to call for;
to act.

Thankful for the silence beneath my cloak 
that welcomes, accepts,
where freedom floats free over warring taboos locked
in rooms of unresolved pain.
most days I prevail,
a chaos of particles swollen by heat
I'm seen, spraying like hot mist speckled in rays of sunshine
that grace me a warm embrace, 
I am charged and changed
in perpetual re-assemblance through lights and darks.

1.6k · Nov 2011
Home again.
victoria Nov 2011

My man is home and what a delight
my lips upturned, my eyes alight.

Its not quotidian
to be with a man again.
Soulmate, playmate,friend and lover
my heart is dancing, bubbling over.
A myriad of sensations,
playful connotations.
laugh, love and laugh some more,
so near yet so far was this man I adore.

The slightest of touch had me salivating,
with burning desire, insatiating.
Tender moments when my heart expands
a little look, or holding hands.
And oh, how those arms encompass me,
legs that entwine, I'm one with thee.

A fantastic few days of love and passion.
intermittent loving a whole new fashion.
Our love enduring, still lovers apart,
you are the man that has captured my heart.

1.6k · Nov 2013
Broken Glass
victoria Nov 2013

I felt your storm in a stone cold shiver
howling through this fractured frame formed of your fury,
drew the faces of unmet expectations
in the swirling stagnant dust of failed love;
this purgatory....
where I meet your eyes
blood orange and high
for still you fly
in the solar searing heat of my violent skies.

Then I noticed your compunction clinging,
transparent in condensations tear stains
all the while harmonizing to sad songs singing
to the tune of the cries from these grating panes...

Why do I dwell here..for better or worse
I am and alone I be...
and though shadows may cross through these portals of pain
the sun still shines bright within me

So I'll wring from my bones these yellows and greens
that pool pale blue in my heart,
and strip off  these enhancing disguises
naked as from the start

And with a break in these clouds
I jump on that breeze
and hope to flow fluid through a sea of trees
where Now is never the time
to cater to tomorrows eventualities.

1.6k · Jun 2013
victoria Jun 2013

Time lost in
treading Dali mosaics
among gaggles I gazed
Gaudis gnarled forms
and sinuous lines
where about, above and beside
the gothic and gargoyle
peruse from fairy-tale architecture.

Heavenly the vibrant
bougainvillea blossoms,
draping shuttered balconies
that hug the cobbled, narrow
calle carretas of the old town.
Beautiful, balmy Barcelona by day
bled into bars by evening
as political passions played out
amid ale and pinchos  
where Catalonian cuisine quells even the hungriest hearts.

A recent short break.  
'calle carretas' narrow streets used by merchants with horse and carts.
'pinchos' delicious snacks similar to tapas, held with cocktail sticks.
1.5k · Jul 2015
These Harlequin Days
victoria Jul 2015

She'd been adrift 
in a sky slick as skimming stone grey, 
barely roused,
submerged in the shadows
of her urban obsessions.
Yet these last days had seen her clamor 
breathless, shallow and rootless 
snagging on grooves of momentary mayhem; 
those symptomatic gluts of her empty loneliness  
when life moved more quickly than her emotions.
Sometimes, arresting in seascapes,
where no matter the change in horizon 
there was always some thing to be found that would remind her
of the worst ways she had ever been.

She had little fear of falling
and so rose
this day 
in the hindsight of night
from under a moon that made manifest
her silent urges to heal 
and with a fecund fervor 
she sought the place 
of soft days and mellow earth.
Here nights orb lingered 
in the first curls of wood-smoke,
audible too 
in the snapping off of leaf layers,
crisp cold brassica
beings that beget bugs.
And harvesting on 
in the harlequin hues of pap and pulp
she coloured in to the day
toasted terracotta; 
tempted by tumbling toms 
and plump plums,
delicious dusted fondants 
she devoured their muted gold flesh.
..By low sun afternoon she did sit,
regenerating as she composted waste
and in her final act
of pulling carrots for soup supper
did feel an earthly connection
with their distortions; 
seeing now, how 
burrowing bugs and stones underfoot 
could change even her shape and character.

1.5k · Jun 2013
Driftwood (haiku)
victoria Jun 2013

weathered washed-up wood
lost limbs of reclaimed beauty
sculptures on the shore

victoria Oct 2013

nature too knows discomfort
letting go in transience,
reinvention, beautiful

victoria Jul 2014

Over cast
the days
of winter waders
and wildfowl
noisily nagging
where in pallid hues
you strain just to sing
on the shadowed corners
of the darkest clouds.

Other days
see you dazzle,
like an emphatic rainbow
in a haphazard rain
arcing proud.
the shortest days,
find you knotting your dreams
in the tangerine seams
of a sun that sets
to the strains
of your swallow soft witters.

1.5k · Sep 2013
Oh my, baby girl.
victoria Sep 2013

she appeared 
in an uneasy gait
top heavy
in agitated silence 
we ate
then walked
sometimes marching
in drum-beat rhythm
to the tantrum of thoughts
that thundered 
her vision
till reaching the river
where we sat  
on some boulders
while the suns
warm compassion
blanketed our shoulders
and I so want to pre-empt
further fall
into pain
but I know
it's a path
she'll walk over and again
because mama said
there'd be days
like this
when what
you wished for
was not what is
so silent I sat
through the streams
that she cried
till nothing was left
of the ideals
she'd contrived
I pursed
her cheeks into
and kissed her gently
with a love
beyond doubt
By evening  sun
she left wrapped
in the glow
that had cast willow gold.

victoria Mar 2013

brushing off the shoe gazing, quilt day
I smell the air, deeply;
watching limitations dissipate
I move before the dust settles
as this inviting interaction
sees me enter
into play...
where I construct a lover
from games of words and chat
in easy energy.
ambiguity can be felt
in flashes of dense lust and coy
that momentarily
hang heavy in a hairs breadth between us
and I whisper to my charming evening companion,
wherever it be that you are... Online,
'I just know
you felt it too'.

1.5k · Nov 2012
victoria Nov 2012

your lack of concern
never met with
her expectations,
hurting and dented
she speedily scribbles you
her weapon words
concealing cause
in their stabbing sarcasm.

And in the quiet corners
of her eyes you can see,
patient while she swims
in a soul sea of delta blues
till she
for the knowing.

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