LiliesDo lilies cry when they wilt?
Do they beg on weak stalks
to a deity they have not worshipped
since raindrops first fell
and touched each petal; an angels
kiss. Do they beg in hope
their lives are spared or
that a resurrection can be blessed
with fresh water?
Does the sun emerge brighter in death;
a ray of glitter,
a seat in paradise
their sweet pollen inhaled
Gourmet Novel RecipeRecipe for Writing a Novel
Serves: 1. If you’re J K Rowling, billions.
- 1 Tin standard cat food
- 1 Laptop/Computer
- 250g cat biscuits
- 5 Pens, various colours.
- 1 stuffed cat toy with bell
- 1 pouch slightly fussier cat food
- 1 sachet gourmet cat food
- 1 bottle of wine, red or white
- 1 Wine glass (Large)
- 1 300g Tin of tuna
Cooking time: 2-5 years
(Preparation time approximately 10-60 minutes depending on condition of desk and computer speed)
1. Clear space on desk. If you do not have respective space for junk, throw on floor. Place paper and pens in clear space.
2. Turn on computer and allow 10 minutes for slow loading time. Add 2-3 sighs as windows update informs to restart computer. Restart computer and allow a further 10 minutes.
3. Once computer is ready, open up new document.
1. Begin with your plot. Open internet to several pages, use pens and paper to mix r
Mothers questionsHow did you get poo on your ear? And
how is it when we think you’re dreaming your
curious eyes share the truth. And why
is it when we dine, you wail until we stop for you
to repay our comfort with projectile vomit on you, on me, on daddy, on the sofa, the floor, the cushions
and my dinner plate.
Your hands raise above your head;
this is the way to sleep and
this is the way you snore and
this is the way you will then wave your shark fin hand to tell me
it’s feeding time again.
I love you because you remind me of a man
who farts and smiles just like you and wraps yourself in
my old cardigan as if it was me cuddling you. And you both
drive me crazy to frustration but make me smile with one look
You are the DrugVelvet blue eyes;
rich and eager tug me.
no patch, no therapy, no miracle cure
I am your addict.
You are the drug.
The terminal infestation of dependence;
a life support where without
my mind withdraws.
Rapture in the ShadowsThose were not the clangs of distant church bells. The hollow echo drained of its passion was nothing more than a steel pipe swinging overhead on its lonely chains, rocking in the breeze and hitting a crumbled wall. Sombre stacks of dirt piled below once hopeful they would become the foundation of new life, but they sagged tired, trapped in their mound. A fortress of iron fencing guarded this construction site with all its might. Not a soul had entered here in weeks and even the hopeless pigeons of the city knew to stay away from such tainted grounds.
A homeless man with his blue sleeping bag roamed the perimeter; babbling about the shadows beyond the gates. The police had questioned him many weeks ago, but his answers were more absurd than a theatre filled with nonsense. He clutched his sleeping bag as comfort as he feared whatever lingered beyond the gates. Whether he'd witnessed the truth of those shadows, nobody could answer.
Before all this, it had been we
BlessingUnicorn naps seem magic;
coo of foals snore.
each hair reflects sunshine,
each head dozing grace.
Even now, wild delphiniums
sway; yearlings sleep peaceful.
Lady youth has seldom met
temptation, now woes struggle,
each horse enchants,
The Cat BossI know he lurks;
alert eyes behind the sofa
Suddenly a paw torturing
these feet, yanking at
Crawling the pond edge
musing perhaps how cold
it might be, the creature
Pats delicate yet
Springs back in terror;
He won't be soaked today.
Stolen comfort, he
Places himself in prime
Spot- my chair
my chair. Only
the shake shake of biscuits
allow his ginger tail to bob
into the kitchen
Begrudgingly, he plants
his purr-box up against
my side. The gentle scratch
behind his ear reminds
us both, he's always