They (and you know who I mean)
Claim (vociferously and accusatorily)
That
They (who lay their hands on and call on the Holy Spirit)
Are
Christians (funny to see that word in their lexicon).
They really do think that.
Is Christ that confusing,
Or
Is it Just Them?

She had these little cups
of coffee for eyes, and I
should have stayed up
all night.
Love is a drunk *****.
A lie from Saturn.
Venus, slither back in the
ocean where you belong.
Loneliness is a knife cutting
my ***** off.
Knowledge arrived with an
alarm clock from hell,
always the wrong *******
time. Slammed doors, words
of hatred.
What happens to the man that
inherits the wind?

A new boy named Peter came to our school,
A son of a billionaire,
But simple, polite and good at studies,
He sat next to me and we sometimes shared notes.
One day he asked me to go to his place,
I declined as it was dad's birthday,
Instead I invited him to our home,
Eagerly he agreed.
We are a close relative family with my grandparents and an orphan cousin,
Mum and granny are great,
They shate a close bond.
Our home is never quiet,
Full of fun, laughter ,debates,
Arguments and differences,
And lots of love, hugs and kisses,
Granny and mum plops kisses on my cheeks,
And will do so till they pass away,
With frequent visits from friends,
Neighbours who come to borrow eggs, tea or sugar or pop in for a meal.
On weekends sometimes we have outdoor barbecues,
My friend was amazed at the love, warmth and banter we shared.
After that he mostly came to our place and became one of us,
He told my family once,
I  have a mansion, not a home,
I have a gorgeous woman full of herself,
Busy with parties, meetings and her philanthropic work to make an impact on society
Not a warm loving mother,
I have a billionaire tycoon who is mostly is  not at home,
Not a father who has time to play football,
To talk to them I need an appointment,
My grandparents too are high society people,
I am rich put poor,
Thirsting for strong family relations like yours,
I am happy I got you.
24/5/2025

the sky is wet like a mouth
the light extremely fragile
bellow people keep fighting, dancing, dying
a soothing sustance, this perfume fills my nails unassuming
the real & the imaginary fuse & diffuse each other

imagination keeps you real
by chance tears feed the earth
we need the continuity of gestures
the prelude of silence foretells the foxtrot of words
a dream clarifies the windows, solidifies the doors
like a tide of awe against the void

She standing there with her gin and tonic
Holding it like a cross ripe
for a cruxification

She turns to smile making sure you see her
Pouring out wiles of affection on the somebody new

It's like an arrow through you
Cutting deeper than the burbon on your breath
Is it her way of making up a test ?
. . . YES !. . .

Well it's sometime between midnights
It's anytime all of the time
She holding the arm of leaving
The attention of her new guy

There's no amount of Bourbon you hush
It can't flush away the ghosts

And it must be between the midnights
It must be the last of last calls

The band's quit for the night
The pianist twinkles on the keys of exhaustion
I whisper to the glass of ice
Everything's going to be alright

Somewhere in another life—

I have a family. All together under one roof,
not a single thing is discernible in the jovial
chatter, all amongst the other like
water skeeters, stones on a clear, glass pond
Rivulets of honey slipping betwixt to become a laugh on another’s lips

In adjacent rooms, we whisper gleefully,
someone is finger combing through my
hair absently, past the casement windows
there is an ochre radiance that
the morning glories vine around
and the deer in the fields observe
inquisitively, drawn to us in the powder blue evening

Like licorice, slippery elm and dates
Long socks and linen, hands caked in
flour—

Effervescent, a little salt, a dream


Somewhere.

I’ve moved out (of school),
I’m moving in (to school).
My joke is that I’m having a ‘moving experience.’

Graduating college (3 days ago) was a dream come true
I’m starting a master’s degree in 7 days.
You have to admire the efficiency.

Do I have your permission to bear my soul?
I might have imposter syndrome.
I’m a harsh critic—of everything—but mostly me.

I’m over the romance and pressure of school.
I’m starting the romance and pressure of school.
Don’t worry, this isn’t hapless, sad girl literature.

Or a diary—it’s a portrayal of my inner life.
.
.
A song for this:
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
Messy by Lola Young [E]

she took my picture,
that's how it started
that's how i knew,
she took my picture
off the refrigerator door

when your picture is taken off
the refrigerator
like dust off a knick knack shelf

you do the dishes,
you have to wash your own socks.

the refrigerator is cursed
like a lost winning lottery ticket.
cursed with pictures of dead pets,
dead aunt's, cousins, grandma...

(my picture rip off the fridge like $#@#$#@...)


the fridge hums its song,
warm on the outside
and cold on the inside.

you *******, i shout,
and i punched the fridge,
packed my suitcase,

grabbed my fishing pole
and out the front door
I went.

half way down the sidewalk,
I turned

and there was little Jack
looking out the window at me.

(tears ran down my cheeks.)

MAN! I'm gonna miss that dog!!!

it’s just another
salty day
that fell into today
and told me
repeatedly
on a loop
that
honestly
none of this
is honestly
okay.

The minotaur, trapped for many
years in a labyrinth, is the
sailing master, pilot of the
ship. His mother, a depressed
biologist, is below deck,

lamenting the loss of her
husband, a bull who was
killed by a matador—now a
pirate, chief executive of an
international fast-food company.

The rigger, master of the sails,
tracker of air and ocean
currents, hermaphroditic,
was a juggler, a high-wire
walker in the traveling  circus.

The look-out, with telescope,
in the crow’s nest. An orphan,
raised in a Taoist monastery.
Describes his life as a
journey of wandering solitude,

All looking for—refuge—
a place to live, to be,
an island with fresh fruit,
not sinking into the sea,
and not on any pirate’s map.