Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!

Emily Dickinson

Friday, 12 February 2010


How mesmerous the clouds
in Van Gogh swirls adorn the sky
I sit in splendour, string at heels
And with one lush breath, fly

The Departure

In the morning you'll find that there's salt on my pillow
and a crumpled up shape where my head used to lay
I'm trying so hard to to forget what I am
and to try and pretend that I'm dreaming each day.

But the grey of the night bleeds in to each daybreak
the numb of the dark cannot deaden each blow
I'm not leaving my bed, think I'm dying a little
Lying silent to wait for the journey to home

So tonight as I smile and I wish you sweet dreaming
I will close every door and I'll smother each light
And how sweetly I'll shiver, dissolve in to starshine
You'll not find me tomorrow, I'm leaving tonight

Thursday, 11 February 2010


Finally managed my Y12 assignment of a melancholy limerick!

If I lie very still for a week
Forget how to move, how to speak
Can I learn not to be
this regret which is me
and become the someone that I seek?

Tuesday, 9 February 2010


And I'd give rum, mint and lime
For an hour of your time

Who knows if you'll think of me again

But I'll wonder how
you are
for one,
made me feel real

Monday, 8 February 2010


And it's over and over and over again,

The games of fill the empty space outline

Gaps which so need colouring.

And age eats in to the growling hunger of time

Da capo

And it's over and over again

I can hear the minor cadence say

It is finished but not resolved: repeat

Da capo

And it's over

And the silence scares me more than the noise