Tag Archives: verse

colour of your face

I always wonder why people are rich

That they can fill their belly with rotten pride

That their eyes are always on the prize

That they see wealth in the skies

I hate them money folk

They play in mind repulsion

Not because I don’t have what they own

But because fickle is a word they do not know

the writer

final thoughts crash me like a pendulum swinging down against my head

the train of thought slowly dying like a rotten idea

words keep forming

that don’t exist

I keep drawing sentences from a state of delirium with a senile smile licking my lips

I gorge of each verse as I spread my left hand across the paper

writing until my bones clench into handwriting unrecognisable

pocket full of flesh

Don’t bind me and cut me and forage me down

I am not a tree to be cut down by your venomous axe

you want to purge me and rid me climb me and conquer me.

My vines will eat you

Trap you

Suppress you

Power is not what you posses

Just as you are you will remain

A pocket full of Flesh

Flesh of my Flesh, Blood of my Blood

i love

Lupe Vélez

When i create and cry

When i write and wallow

when i handwrite and hate

i recite and recall

verse and virile

and speak



softly, sadly, spoken

simmering softly words peel through my throat

eyes dim down sadly strangled by each thought

the only true verse spoken from her benevolent lips

Dali, Mae West lips sofa


riveting the embodiment of a soul woman

her body dipped in ruby wine

bold, words for eyes

her shine emulates as she speaks her verse

she speaks the stars truth

Streamline smiles that measure from ear to ear

wolf woman bleed through your vines

paint the world with your pictures

and gratify your visions spirit