Monthly Archives: March 2015

Given Names

That mouthful of given names your
long-dead parents loaded on you for
obscure reasons, the ones that
haunt you when form-filling,
applying for a passport, getting
married, hoping your spouse won’t
snigger at such abundance, a
single child freighted with the names of
unborn, unconceived siblings,
pursuing you even after death,
tattooed in stones that
rarely remember the
lived-in name of a
life lived.

Knowledge

When, at last, I didn’t know her,
when that last thin
thread of memory
snapped, loosing the catch of
forty years of intimate knowledge to
slap and slipper on the hull,
no longer knowing me she gave that same
sweet, shy smile that once made me
so much want to know her.

Fear Not

We worked three days amongst the dead,
who weren’t bothered by our
bubble of busy-ness in their
acres of ash, bones, stones:
not the Chinese, sober slabs
slashed with gold logograms; nor the
Italians, severe in studio photographs,
enamelled, impervious; nor the
Hindus, bedecked with flags, beneath their
special shrines, artlessly recreated;
nor the nexus of North Londoners in
whose bosom they repose.

Sullenly swallowing delay, my eye
caught a simple plaque:
‘F.E.ARNOT’. Were his parents
sending him a message? Did he
heed it? Use it as his motto when
dealing with work, wine, women?
He doesn’t sound much loved,
memorialised sans given names,
respected at a distance, like a
Headmaster or a stern father, but
was he, at the last, able to say
“I fear not”?

Checks are called: we are
poised to shoot; Make-up
tweaks hair, powders sheen;
Costume collects enough
cover-coats to equip an
Arctic expedition; my mind
wrenched back to work,
away from my own and
only natural fears.

The Realm of Sleep

That day, run ragged by rugby,
telling my mother I just needed a
moment’s rest on the sofa, sleeping like
sleep was newly invented and I was
taxed with testing it to destruction,
waking a day later, life having
manoeuvered around me as I
ran riot in the Realm of Sleep.

Dead Pixels

I feel my mind going—oh
not like HAL 9000’s, in great
white perspex slabs, but
cell by cell, dead pixels just
slightly impairing the
whole picture.

Temperature's Rising

Sexy Times ~ Warm Feelings ~ Hot Flashes ~ All That

MULTIGLOM

The Anne Billson blog

A Submissive Wife

Married Submissive, Exploring the kinky side of life.

Life of a Kinky Wife

Marriage with a Twist

The Weaver of Words

"Poetry is what happens when your mind stops working, and for a moment all you do is feel." -Atticus

Works of an Unsettled Mind

Stories, Poems and Titillating Epitaphs

Upashna

In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.

My Liver's Trying to Kill Me!... Oh Wait.

A Journey to a Healthier Me.

Undressed Thoughts

layers of my onion head

The Wild Heart of Life

"He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life." ...James Joyce

Veronica Love-Wylde

Erotic Poet and Artist - Welcome to My Sensual World

my controlled ascent

living and loving as a married submissive in my D/s marriage

Filimages

A quoi servent les images que l'on ne montre pas ?

BlogUnseen

Written Thoughts, Spoken through verse...

Jupiter's Lair

Because a dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste...

A Quest for the Uncliche

Dream. Explore. Learn. Repeat.. Let's traverse on the paths less taken and explore whole new worlds