Friday, 1 May 2015

Just Keep Walking, Girl

I think a lot
I hurt a lot

I think a lot
About how
Not to think a lot

I plumb my depths
To look for a way
To not hurt so much

I love a lot
I hurt a lot

They whisper
They taunt

I try to love
A lot
I try to forget
A lot


I'm grace under pressure
Soft elegant movements
When I want to rip the walls
Down with bloody hands

A whirling dervish
Who feels too much
Crazy, manic, fucked up
Silly little gypsy girl

Just stop, girl
And start walking
Feel the earth push
Against your soft soles

Just keep walking, girl
Worship the moon
Fall in love with you
Just keep walking, girl

Saturday, 25 April 2015


The truth is
I was terrible at geometry
I was not great 
At math
In general

There are reasons
But they're ugly
And involve 
And abuse
And bad parenting
Let's not go there

But geometry 
Is almost

Which should be good
For someone like me

I prefer to think
It just wasn't
Explained properly

So geometry is still
Such an elusive thing
I can't quite grasp

But triangles
I loved triangles
They made music
Could make music

I thought I had
A secure grasp
On triangles


And her
And me

But we made
A clangy sound
It was not pretty

It was ugly

And finally

I'm not fond
Of triangles now

I wanted to take
My point off to a
Bohemian Street Faire

Find some slow dancing
Brown eyed boy
Who would make me
Forget how to breathe

You could be
Point A
To her Point B

But you said
No one leaves
We love this through

I believe in love

I don't know 
If I believe 

In triangles

when dreams turn to nightmares

When dreams
Turn to nightmares

And navel gazing
Turns to searching

Rifling through
Fears and cracks
In a weakened spirit

It isn't light I see
Trying to break free

But the darkness
Of too many failures

Friday, 24 April 2015

Home Again

Tonight he lays his head
On my naked breast
It has always been a
Place of refuge for him

My need to protect and defend
Is also fed by that simple action
His head on my warm breast
His hand cupping one round globe
Until his breathing matches mine

And I think that for one
Moment of pure magic

We are God and Goddess
Clinging fast to one another

Our breaths creating
The entire Universe

Every falling star,
Every tiny flower
Every hopeful heart
Every child's smile

Into exquisite existence
And this is how

We continue
To love each other

Love each other
Home again

Johnny Cash - Hurt HD 720p

Saturday, 4 April 2015

Running Out

The truth is

I am easily overwhelmed
Easily hurt beyond repair

I carry so many scars
So many bruises
That if you look closely
You will see 
I am merely 
Limping along

Some days 
I just want
To shut it all down

Be that crazy lady
With a hundred cats
Who one day 
Just stopped talking

It takes so much energy
To keep going
When stopping would be
Such a blessed relief

I am told I am loved
Some days
I even feel loved

But most days
It requires faith
To believe in something
I don't actually feel
Faith requires energy

The truth is

I am running out
Of energy
Of faith
Of belief
Of heart

Friday, 27 March 2015


I have a best friend. 

She lives across the pond. We have late night conversations via Facebook Private Messenger, which is probably the least private messenging service on the interwebs. Just saying.

The other night she messaged me this: *The most difficult lesson for me is "expect nothing"....does this sound familiar to you???*

Expectations. They'll get you every time.

It reminded me of something my friend Sorsh said: "Let me say this. And it's something I'm working on too. We often have ideas about how things should look and how things should go. And then if it doesn't look that way we feel like its wrong or off. However, when we do that we are getting in the way of the gifts the universe is giving us, as they are given to us."

Expectations. Missed opportunities because we think we know...

The thing is sometimes we just don't know, can't know and probably it's not in our best interest to know.

But still...

When I was a little girl we used to play this game at birthday parties. Probably people still do but I've lived in England for a long time. It was called *Pin the Tail On The Donkey."

You get blindfolded. Fuck. Maybe that's where I discovered my love of being blindfolded.

Anyway.... You're blindfolded, handed a paper *tail* with a pin attached. Someone takes you by the shoulders and spins you 'round and round and gives you a mostly gentle shove.

My last six months has been a consistent metaphorical action of sightless girl being spun round and round and given a shove, followed by more spinning and more shoving.

Maybe just once I would like to see where I'm going and get what I expect...

But that's not what I meant to say at all.

I wanted to say, I'm a Gypsy Girl. I love the sound of my bangles as they jangle while I sway to the sounds of your guitar.

You feed me with your crazy juju magic. My soul lights up and my breath is made of stardust.

But tonight could I just crawl into your lap and let you soothe the hurt away with your hands?

I didn't mean to say that either.

I was going to say something profound about stars and dance and courage and spirit.

But, actually...

Just for tonight could I not be brave and strong and fierce and crawl into your lap instead?

Thursday, 26 March 2015

A Bit Too Much

We had voodoo
God, did we have voodoo

We were an ocean away
And still I could feel him
Deep inside my womb stirring

It used to bring me such joy
And a tiny little giggle at the magic

And how he could make me long
Make me lose myself to want

Until one day it just stopped
No matter how many times 
I stroked our talisman
The magic had just died

I wanted to believe I had 
Failed in some way
I wasn't enough
In some way
But I was too much
Maybe a little too old
Just a tiny bit too dull
Too experienced, too candid

Even in my gypsy dancing splendour
Just not quite what he required
To keep him hard, to keep him lusting
Perhaps he always knew 
I had a creeping expiration date

For me, I just keep dancing
From one campfire to the next
Knowing I was never not enough

But just possibly

A bit too much

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

This Is My Goodbye

Some days
I wait for good bye

It never comes

Some blank silences 
Followed by words
Powerful words 
That should obliterate
Those silences

I'm probably too needy

Some days
*I* say goodbye
I'm rarely heard

I'm asked to stay

I'm told no one leaves

I'm walking away
For just a bit

I want a goodbye
I want peck on the cheek
I want a deep
Soul destroying kiss

But today
It's me saying goodbye
Into a dark night
Filled with silence

And so...

This is my goodbye

Tightrope Dancer

In darkness
And in light
Hushed whispers
In a dark, dark night

In soft murky shadows
Sometimes a faint glow
Is enough, can be

Uneasy alliances
Precarious and
Out of balance
I feel clumsy
Sure I will falter

A tightrope dancer
With a softly glowing heart
And luminous eyes

Takes one step
Then another

I watch
We all watch
Holding our breaths
Just a little
Or a lot

She walks this walk
Dances this dance
Looks me in the eye
Gives me a sly wink

And I know

She dances for me
She dances
In my place, for me

And I know

She lives in me
Dances in me

I will not fall

Feist and words for my breaking heart

Sunday, 22 March 2015

Mermaid Girl

When does safe 
Become not safe

This mermaid girl
Longs for the sea again

She never quite learned
The steps to this dance

The kiss of a man
Is a potent charm

Almost enough
To sustain life


Sometimes We Choose

And then sometimes 
We just choose badly
Choose pretty shiny, 
Choose a well turned phrase
Over constancy, 
Over depth, 
Over truth

We are just too easily 

I walk away a lot
I walk a lot
My feet have charms
Embedded in their soles

Diamonds sparkle like
Brilliant stars against
A dark black night

Each step I take 
Is an incantation

Sometimes I weave magic 
To bring me closer to you
Sometimes I pray to every 
God and Deity and Demon
I know to please let me go

And them sometimes
I just choose very badly
Choose pretty shiny
Choose a well turned phrase

Saturday, 21 March 2015

Dancing With Death

I have been dancing with Death again
A slow dance, as I am a watcher
I am a mourner, a singer of the dirge
A broken hearted little bird singing off key

I never know why he picks me
To be his dark shadowy companion
To witness the fragility of the human body
Or the sheer magnitude of the human heart

But my heart breaks watching sons shed tears
For a father that was their tower of strength
Now struggling to eat, to sleep, to be
I am helpless, a mere witness to such love
To such suffering, to such enormity of spirit

I can feel the somber presence of Death
Watching, waiting, lurking in the shadows
And even with his hand resting on my shoulder
I speak of mundane things with a watery smile

I don't offer hope to the hopeless, even though
Every breath in my body wants to breathe hope
I say I love you every few minutes like a mantra
I wonder if it is annoying to be given words of love

Can repetition destroy the love you are offering
I can't seem to stop myself so the words continue
I want to lift him up, cradle his sick body against
My warm, alive breast until he is strong again

I want to kiss his brow furrowed with worry
Until it is smooth again, hear his easy laugh again
But Death is asking for another dance, a twirl or two
I'm not ready for another dance, another dirge

I whisper I love you, like a mantra, 
Like the breath of life for the dying
Or perhaps it is my gift of Spirit
Or perhaps it is all I have left to give
Or maybe it is all he is able to receive

I have been dancing with Death again.