Writer’s Note: this poem was originally published in the August 2021 ‘Family’ issue of PopShot magazine. My Father Was An Athlete He ran out of the maternity ward so fast,that he got to the finish line beforeI even opened my eyes for the first time. And every man that came after himTreat us like it… Continue reading My Father Was An Athlete
Tag: writer
Dear Ma
Dear Ma You once wrote of me that I am like a chair not a comfortable one but strong and supportive. Today I write to you to say that you are the table at which we dine at every night. Your thick oak limbs have held more difficult decisions than traditional cuisine and your back… Continue reading Dear Ma
Delayed
Delayed We’ll get the 16:22 Hazel Grove service,and we’ll get off at Piccadilly station. The train will be delayed by 17 minutesbut we won’t notice because our eyes will be lost in conversation. I will sipfrom my coffee and we’ll share a cigarette and by the time the train arriveswe’ll have seen each other naked.
Devil’s Advocate
You were temptationin a tight red dress, the shotof tequila that pushedme over the edge.You were a wild night out. Waking to the tasteof prohibition, the smellof secrecy hanging in the airlike stale perfume. Youwere cool silk on my skin. You were a ticket outof town, an X on a treasure map.I meant all that… Continue reading Devil’s Advocate
Trouble
She was all mandalas
and peace signs, a free
spirit dancing on the
graves of our society…
The Emerald Isle Herself
The Emerald Isle Herself I packed up my whole life and movedoverseas for her. Granted it was more likeacross the pond, only two hundred andtwenty-six miles, but it was two hundredand twenty-six miles out of my comfort zone. To a brand-new country, where they speak thesame language, only there it sounded morelike a song, and… Continue reading The Emerald Isle Herself
Speaking In Tongues
Speaking In Tongues When I say I’m cleaning what I mean isI’m going to cleanse, wash the whiskey sweatingout of my pores, the smell of bad decisionsand cigarette smoke ingrained into my hair. When I say I have a meeting, I mean I have toget out of bed this week, open the curtainsto the blinding… Continue reading Speaking In Tongues
New Beginnings
New Beginnings “But why can’t we all just go together?” Fabiana asks again as she follows her mother around the cramped bedroom the four of them share at grandmas, while mum packs the last of her belongings away into the giant suitcase by the door. Fabiana has spent most of her formative years living with… Continue reading New Beginnings
Soundless Fights In The Middle Of The Night
You say: say what you have to say! But those words echo in my mind because you are not ready for the deafening tone of the words that are spilling out of my eyes and you do not understand what I mean by your eyes make me want to skinny dip in the ocean and… Continue reading Soundless Fights In The Middle Of The Night
If Your Lips Could Speak
If Your Lips Could Speak “I’m so drunk” you said loosely from behind the partially closed door. I laughed, but in reality, I was quite drunk myself. You had chosen the very middle cubicle, the other four doors, two at either side of you, were wide open, and empty. We were completely alone. I was… Continue reading If Your Lips Could Speak
