And if all these words were freeSkittering across a page-pondfull of strange creatures,punctuation marks, and full-stops,that might make them scaredto start or stop —Would they say pain, or play?
I don’t know about you, but I tend to go through phases of reading. I might ruffle pages that contain positive psychology tips, the next might be a fantasy, the next particle physics, the next a rom-com and on it goes.I rarely ever buy, pick-up, read a book of poetry in this way. Maybe becauseContinue reading “A Thousand Morning’s and Ethan Hawke (on creativity)”
A quote flashed up on my feed today, It read something like — “Maybe I started kissing strangers, because you didn’t want me anymore.” My sternum felt like small fingers, were pulling at the nerves, nerves which, apparently, are blocked from this space that feels so much. I feel like someone is pulling threads, fromContinue reading “Tapestry, It Shouldn’t Be So Easy”
There’s a dizzying madness, In words like hope. Did you sing her a sweet lullaby? Before you swung on the rope. There’s a dizzying madness, About words like faith, Did you wipe away her tears? During that long Winter wake? There’s a dizzying madness, About words that hide music, Wrapped up in dulcet vowels, andContinue reading “The Dizzying Madness of Words”