Once upon a restless night

I tangled in a fearful fight

somewhere between sleep and wake

With a spirit, foul and fierce

intending my frail heart to pierce


She pulled a knife from it’s faded sheath

and hissed obscene through ochred teeth

somewhere between wake and sleep

She sliced and thrust the blade at the air

to find I was no longer there


in the corner

watching us from a chair



Image featured is a photograph of a wood mask by the amazing Haida artist Bill Reid (1920-1998). Museum of Anthropology, Vancouver, BC. 

The secret

The power of a secret

lies in its exuberant details

Foaming at the mouth

threatening to spill over

Like milk frothing when your back is turned

Ingrained stain of ceramic pores

and lactic stench


best kept in the cool dark



Degassed of it’s sublime spritz of carbonated conceal

Till one day

stagnant and putrid

with half its truth evaporated

to concentrated memory

Dress Up

via Daily Prompt: Uniform


I wear a different uniform

for every lover I’ve ever known

From sexy nurse, to traffic cop

I have no clothes of my own


I’d be covered in flour

at some ungodly hour

to convince that I could cook

Buy some horn rimmed glasses

renew library passes

feigning interest in some book


Yet the only one I never wore

was that of the salacious whore…

Can you afford to pay more?


So I was mildly surprised at my response to the daily prompt. In my mind the uniforms have an almost halloween-esque appearance and illustrate how far we can disguise ourselves in relationships.

As we sleep

via Daily Prompt: Distant


Venus clings to the moon this night

Coyly bathed in his glow, so bright

She makes herself small to appease his lunar ego

So frail

after the pockmarked, crater malady of his youth


But, a universe-al truth: she is the greater one

calmly soaking fresh heat from the Sun

before spiralling into the distant celestial deep

wrapped in sulphurous cloud veils

as we sleep



I am but a weed

rooted in solemn shade

From a carefree seed

slid down a dewed grass blade
Shall I sway to pose

against the heinous rose

If only to stand a chance

from the pruning gardener’s glance

Having always viewed the weed as an underdog I will be her champion tonight. 

Ode to an egg

Oh but you are … deliciously, teasing me

with your farm fresh bright
Shall I flip you over-easy?

Your lascivious ooze shall remind me of my haste

I must be patient

Or prepare a little bath and let you linger to poached perfection

You deserve a pedestal for your perfection

And softly, softly I shall indulge

But shall I have the patience?
Perhaps just throw you down

And scramble your senses

Until you are




What happens when you are preparing dinner, feeling poetic and letting  your mind wander all at the same time. 😊

I am the "little armored one", moving gently through life. Hoping to safeguard my sensitivities with layers of words and the expression of thought. Shielding my mirror neurons at times, or tasting music and spinning till I'm dizzy. Every moment here is a gift.