Dead leaves
Sometimes I dream of of being carcass, corpse, remains Sometimes I dream of dancing with the dead. Sometimes I dream of blood and bones; decay and rot; of being none […]
Sometimes I dream of of being carcass, corpse, remains Sometimes I dream of dancing with the dead. Sometimes I dream of blood and bones; decay and rot; of being none […]
My dreams are thieves, strange and strained they trespass, sneak on plimsoll soles at night. My dreams are knives and satin, a morning sated, they are odd solutions infinitely non-convergent. […]
Afterwards – when only thorns remain when leaves have left and sap been sucked. With fingers pricked, you still recall, perfumed the summer rose of youth. Before the withered rot […]
Whispered voices somniloquy tethered breath. Goddess blessed Godiva-dressed she’s pillowed tress-caressed dreaming softly screaming. Darkly passing clouds across the moon, as I wait for dawn and her. — Linked to […]
One Hundred Thirty Three These beans, to be, I’m Jack and talk for stalks Fee-fi-fo-fum One Hundred Thirty Four and smell the blood of british man for goose that lay […]
Now we see through a glass, darkly
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
rejuvenatement - not retirement
words and scribble.
The Quantumverse
Poetry
About fantastical places and other stuff
Sharing my thoughts, poems, travel & art
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