this little light that shines…

I feel so raw

when my girl gets called

a loser.

I think so fast

when my love for her

is tossed

in the net of all their taunts.

They’re bigger than her.

So what?

They swagger, they sway

in her face

to stop her winning game.

They’d like to blow right out her light

a candle snuffed before its prime.

Yet in her heart she feels

some bright

that shines way beyond:

oh yes. She’ll have her time.



under my duvet, onesie-d and warm

i’m safe.

at parties with mates, patter from mouth and glass in hand

i’m safe.

in meetings that count, with lipstick and heels

i’m safe.

to show my feelings, expose an emotion

i’m unsafe.

to express on paper the novel within

i’m unsafe.

to say to the world what’s really in my heart

that’s unsafe.

Expose. Hide.

Safe. Unsafe.

Aren’t they both

two sides that chafe?

My Trickster Soul

inktuition dandelionYou give me fleeting hints that you’re looking after me.

You throw me toxic trails that you’re teasing me with glee.

You remind me of my sadness through scents from deep indoors.

You show me cheeky glimpses of the chance to feel restored.

I think you’re trying to prove that

I should relax and get the groove.

But I’m tussling with the tension:

is it far too late to mention

that I’ve kind of got you sussed?

In my soul I totally trust.

A poem for urban sunflowers

inktuition urban sunflowers

My thoughts are grey and hurried.

My heels click a pavement rhythm

that’s awfully fast and fed-up.

My true self easily gets buried

in the soil of daily hum.

I often forget to look up.

But why always so worried?

When I lift my eyes from my glum,

I see yellow and smiles erupt

with petals and hearts a flurry.

They’re the sun I yearn to become:

my game plan now feels upped.

A poem about doing what you love

Do what you love

and the money will come.

That’s what we hope

when we chuck it all in

for a new career and life

and fulfilment’s great charm.

The pursuit of money.

Is that really what life’s for?

Or realising a dream,

a do-it-or-damned score?

I know what I want

before I bid goodbye

to my breath.

That’s to publish and be whole.

To bring openness to heart

and hope to the soul.

A poem for the elusive brown bunnies (silent retreat – day two)

I’m sure they’re teasing me

as they chase across green

always in twos, hoppity hop.

The silence for me has been non-stop.

The scampering brown bunnies

think it’s terribly funny

to let me think I can reach them.

The silence has yet to reveal its gems.

It’s my will against theirs,

and they’re faster then hares.

All I’ve seen so far is the fluff of their tails.

The silence resolutely maintains its veil.

A poem: on silent retreat – day one

I was told to shut up as soon as I could talk,

so finding my voice has been tough.

There was never space to have my own thoughts

Never mind express what I love.

Now I’ve chosen to close myself from the world

and turn much deeper within.

A few days in silence, what will unfurl?

At least a break from my daily din.

What will I find, when my ego’s been stripped,

when I read from my sacred scroll:

will I find scribble or beautiful script

in the cavern of my heart and soul?