Couscous
The sun was warm that afternoon, and bright, Illuminating pots and pans and knives, Roasted garlic, a batch of fresh-made dough - And something else, a dish I didn’t know. What’s this? I asked you, pointing to a plate. Couscous, you said. Would you like a taste? Of course I would, I said. We both ignored My husband hovering at the kitchen door. My chin between your fingers loosely gripped, You gently pushed the spoon between my lips. Your innuendo wasn’t lost on me; A hint of hidden sexuality. You must have known what we’d be doing soon That day you fed me couscous...
Read MoreNot Poetic
I’m just too much in love to be poetic - I can’t commit this passion to the page. My superstitious heart becomes frenetic. “Don’t write it down, or it might start to fade.” I’m sure there must be many ways of speaking Without repeating what’s been said before, But I can’t find the phrases I am seeking And repetition soon becomes a bore. This poet’s heart demands at least a sonnet. This lover’s hand prefers to work with touch. My fingers find your body, write upon it “I want you now,” – “I love you far too much.” Why should I try to...
Read MoreSuperior Weapons Technology
Long and long I set traps and defences to keep invaders from my rocky shores. Lined up the catapults, mangonels and caltrops In readiness for the enemy bringing war. The boiling oil seethed richly in the vats, the youngest children set to watch the pots. The archers on the ramparts checked their fletching whilst pikemen honed their weapons and drew lots. But General Iciness was drunk on duty, and Legate Caution thought the troops should wait. Centurions declined to follow orders, and sent the legions out to hold the gate. Your army swept across my narrow islet and bribed my legionaries not to...
Read MoreLove Before Dawn
This pre-dawn grey you somehow exhale, Breathing your soul into the air above my bed. We are not fast, we are drifting, opaque. Your mouth falls open, darkness spilling from your lips. My pillow is damp with your saliva. My clock’s a shadow, but it’s time To send you home. Now, before there’s light To tell your leaving. You’re still my baby, my child. Love aching slowly across the room. You clasp The absence where I was lying. Transformed I flinch from the pain of hurting you. “Altruistic or self-motivated remains unclear.” Open to the wounding of your...
Read MoreTowards The Sky
The pylons sway in their electric dance, Reaching as we towards the sky. I turn and fall beneath your glance; Power surges eye to eye. The heat is ring in our blood, Earth turns underneath our feet. I lead you down to leaves and mud. The gorse, the bracken; damp and sweet. The earth is warm. Now for a while We come together in this place. I look at you, begin to smile – For where is love, if not your face? Here in the roots, we reach the top. We roll go gently, hip to hip. At last we come to ground and stop And life is breathed from lip to lip. The journey’s end. I reach the light; I turn...
Read MoreWhat You Do
We crash with the same beat. I know It’s impossible. You sound like Salt water smashing On rock and grit. (and I always connected sex with the sea - with waves, with pulling in and out. Rhythm. I could bury my head in a stone pillow. I could clutch your wet shoulders.) You can see the wolf in me. You can sense the moon rising. Your Eyes are shades darker than Your hair. Than the earth. (the sea’s so female. Moons; tides. Purging and cleansing. Water surging in phases. Isn’t blood salty as sea?) I love this. There’s a power Around me. You show me The day; the night. Black And white...
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