Tags » Welsh Poetry

Bedrocks.

In the space of your time,

Some beings dislodge ground.

Sediments of essence are shaken

and rearranged.

Sharply and suddenly,

all matter appears altered.

Dull edges have been sharpened, 35 more words

Writing

White Knight.

You owe some apology for not finding him attractive.

Ego unable to understand the nuances of politeness and disinterest.

Like turns to Love, turns to loathing, 73 more words

Writing

Insipid Love.

Heart skips, trips and falls.

Indifference fills moments, touch and pores.

That noise you can’t stand,

Patience contracts fills air in twisting bands.

New L word is flung, 7 more words

Writing

Snakes.

Burning tears collect around nostrils,

Heat driving nerves wild as fists clench.

Nails digging deeply,

Physical pain penetrating flesh,

soul and breath.

Strangling conviction,

Grabbing throats, 21 more words

Writing

Him.

Forbidden new exotic rich fruit,

that hangs dangerously and entices.

Eternally out of reach,

swarming your mind with a slow new poison.

Toxin so potent, so greatly enjoyed in it’s perversity. 35 more words

Writing

A Pint of Bitterness.

Sudden glaring obvious nature of your betrayer.

Constant need of justification,

they must accept or I never can.


Intimacy soothes the denial,

lose all sense of self  hatred when wrapped in another. 11 more words

Writing

WHAT IS PRECOCIOUSNESS?

I love the word “precocious” – the name “produces vibrations”, as a character of Oscar Wilde’s play once said. The name promises a spring when you see an apricot tree blossoming without its leaves appearing yet. 370 more words