“The pen is mightier than the sword if the sword is very short, and the pen is very sharp”

  • British Problems With Sexual Ardour
    It is, very easy to want you,In that idle way that women do,Warm and sleepy and happy and safeSo you want him, Whoever's arms provide that embrace.It is very easy to talk to you,And I've always enjoyed your company,Your cool hands over my bodyMake that even easier for me.I do… Read more »
  • Girls are Messy
    Being a girl is pretty messy,It's not too bad at first - paint gets everywhere,You're a tomboy then an artist oh, but it does get worse;If you manage to circumvent being held to be pretty,In some artistic or sporty way,You are destined to bleed or be pitied And in the… Read more »
  • Just Grand
    Disarm me with your blue eyes thenAnd ask if I'm alright,I'm not used to this, but isn't it what I saw?Light years ago, your head in my lapAnd rain on the canvasYou said you'd ask and all my thinking slowed.A thousand times yes, I'm fine,More than alright,Today, tonight, tomorrow, more… Read more »
  • Writing
    I'm trying to write for other peopleBut I end up only writing for meI'm supposed to write things accessiblyBut to read half my stuff you need an art degreeAnd the other half it kinda helpsIf you've done Latin to GCSEWith the Cambridge Latin CourseI'm trying to write for other peopleBut… Read more »
  • In My Head
    Wrap your hands around my throatAnd don't kiss mePull my hair until I comeBut never noticeAnd is it any wonder That I believed youWhen you told meThat the other womenWere only in my head? Read more »
  • Dead Breezes
    A simple act of rememberance in the churchyard in Somerby,A sunny pleasant day when the breeze is kind,The living are far harder to connect with than the dead,I have spoken with both today, both of me and mine,A simple act of rememberanceA wave of long ago love under the sunA… Read more »
  • Language
    There are dogs barking in this street,But none at her.Mine barks at you as I translateAll the Cambridge words back and forthThat left me with no wayTo describe, ascribe or proscribeMy feelings.There are set declensions,Neurotypicals tell me so And I bam, bas, bat my way throughBecause it has to be… Read more »
  • To Sappho On Muses
    So, tell me then Sappho, what is art?And how did you think to write it?Men inspire me and always haveBut Catullus needed his Lesbia, Dante his Beatrix,For women are the muses aren't they?And men the beating, vibrant heart that do the bloody businessOf making art.I suppose my question is this,… Read more »
  • Lacking Words
    There should be a word for the light in your eyesAs you tell me about your dayOr you need a poet who can describe the skiesThat moment blue turns to greyAt the very beginning of a storm.I need a word too for the fluff of your hair,At the back where… Read more »
  • As Usual
    I find the profound in the solidly mundaneLove itself is an everyday miraclePerfect in the surreality of two mindsBeing in sync at that exact time.Life is brief and I appreciatePerfection unsought, moments unplannedAnd happenstance,I am not a creature of grandeur.The perfect moment is created by human eyesAnd the most beautiful… Read more »

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