Category Archives: Relationships

Legion

You changed your look

each time I saw you

not knowing which

you was you

boy or girl

vamp or victim

fashionista or frump

Lezbollah or someone’s Sub

Mother or Child but

it mattered not for

you were you and

you were Legion.

Scorn

My business has many ways to express scorn:

the Lighting Cameraman who couldn’t

light a box of matches; the

Director who couldn’t

direct traffic; the

Producer who couldn’t

produce his prick from his trousers.

 

But you have refined scorn to a

simple glance.

Empty Dancefloors

There’s this invisible

iron rod between us

ten feet long so

when I move you

move too in a

perverted mirror of

how we danced once on

empty dancefloors.

Pass the Parcel

Women confuse men:

it’s a gift, one I have been

trying all my life to unwrap,

unsure what might lie beneath the

final crumpled fold.

A Simple Act

After so long of course you can

irritate sometimes just as I can be

your irritant but today we met

one of the two pearls that are

products of our joint irritants and later

walking London’s sticky streets we

made each other laugh and

forget the press of problems by the

simple act of holding hands.

Missing in the Multiverse

We are multipresent in the multiverse,

always online, available as

avatar or bare-faced,

named or anonymed, at the

press of a key or a button

emailed, messaged, skyped, blogged to

so many it’s hard to know who you have

missed, why they might be

missing, whether you will be missed when

you go missing.

Archipelago

We built our peninsula out from the

great landmass, laid foundations to

last a generation but

storms have eaten the earth,

washed struts out to sea, leaving an

archipelago on which each of us is left

stranded, dependant on social media or the

long journey over ever

deeper and more

dangerous seas.

Hearts

My heart goes out to hearts

caught in branches on a cold night;

caught waiting on a

street corner for a

car that won’t come; caught

watching the ice melt in a

bought drink that will

never be drunk; caught between

transplants not knowing which

soul to beat for; caught

hoping, caught dreaming;

caught in the act of

catching cold.

The Canonical Hours of a Working Man

Matins

In the ghost world the

ghost girl dances her

ghost whirls enlacing me in

veils so seductive I

sometimes pray the

dawn won’t come.

 

Lauds

But dawn does come with the

prayer my feet will

find the floor and that the

floor will bear my weight so I

will not start the day

flat on my face.

 

Prime

If there is a God it is coffee-coloured,

coffee-flavoured, dark-roasted,

perking like heavy breathing, its

consort sizzling in the pan, the

toaster popping its prize with a

sigh like a prayer.

 

Tierce

In the mad rush of the studio I

see something, take my chance,

get the set rebuilt and

knowing it will take time

slip out to light my

prayer to creativity.

 

Sext

Shall I make this poem a pun on Sex? But

lunch is when I have a moment to

lust over those who, at work,

I respect, would never dishonour, but

at quiet times imagine

undressed, themselves lustful.

 

 

None

Mid-afternoon is a sigh—no, a

yawn into the vast face of the work we’ve

chiselled all day into something we

pray is vaguely human, vaguely

real, vaguely worth all that

spent time to achieve.

 

Vespers

Outside the lamps are lit just as we

switch ours off and head away home

praying all is well with those

work has cut us off from, lit

phone-screens in the car-park evidence of

love, concern and care.

 

Compline

Fed and watered—ok, wined!—I

wend my way to my hotel, call home,

check the news, reply to emails,

clean myself, resign myself to bed

praying the ghost girl will still be

whirling in her ghost world.

Necklace

Your neck, dear Lady,

deserves a poem but

can I find enough

fine words to

thread a necklace to

hold throughout the day and

not chafe? Or will

one word or another

prickle, my poem

tossed in a tray

with the rest of your

discarded finery?

The Used Life

Experiments in the Art of Mastering None

365 dni w obiektywie LG

365 days a lens LG

Sauce Box

Never get lost in the Sauce

Natalie Breuer

Natalie. Writer. Photographer. Etc.

Katya Evangeline

From Missionary to Sex Preacher and Loving It!

Sara in LaLaLand

Welcome to my world.

LittleSwitchBitch - An Irish Lass blogging about all things sex

Irish Sex Blogger • Lover of Kink, Lingerie, Strong Coffee & Sunshine •

cleareyedgirl

moments : words : images

Are You Thrilled

because the story must be told

Lapsed Catholic Wife

Rediscovering pleasure. 2016 Adventures of an Ashley Madison female

Surviving the affair....the cheaters perspective

I cheated. Yip I did it, I am not proud of it, but that won't change a thing. This is my story of me trying to survive one day at a time. No guarantees....

Back in Stilettos Again

diary of a San Francisco serial dater

Let It All Go

Leaving behind the expectations of pure innocence in these musings.