Pick your poison: Nightmares / Miracles

EVERYDAY NIGHTMARES MIRACLES

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book cover burning house book cover sunset

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sure you can relate….

Nightmares chapters: NIGHTMARES, DARK, RELATIONSHIPS, SAD, HURT, BODY, PAIN, DEATH, TIME

Miracles chapters: MIRACLES, HAPPINESS, RELATIONSHIPS, INTIMACY, LOVE, PRAYER,
FATE, LIGHT, HOPE

 



 

Leviathan (Redux)

LEVIATHAN

You might never know it’s there.
It’s been quiet for so long.
Dormant, but strong like indecision.
Lying in its own blackness, biding its time.
It’s older than you, it came before us all.
Moving and shaping like the clouds across the sky.
It does not seek the calm waters, or the tangerine days of summer.
It comes with the storms, the hurricanes of the heart.
When your bow is breaking, and you’re taking on water.
When you are barely holding things together.
Caught on rocks and the shallows of shame.
It seizes those moments.
Gripping you in its darkened grips of despair.
Blocking out the sun with its inky nightmare.
Pulling you down fathoms gasping for air.
To float forever in the torrid turpentine seas below.

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Taken from Leviathan (of the soul) – out now


Seasons of a wandering heart (Out now)

Seasons change like memories. Swelling on a yearly cosmic tide. Never free from change, we move like blood coursing through a body, pumped by a heart under the pressures of life and circumstance.

Discover this photopoetry collection while you drift, snapshots in time across the seasons that wander into your eyeline. From Spring to Winter, course your path across the yearly interval and meet visitors such as love, pain, wonder and friendship.

Wander, and wonder with eyes and heart wide open.

This work is a collaborative collection with fellow artist and poet June Okochi

Book cover tree snow

NOUS SAVIONS TOUJOURS


Peel away this faded grey.
The looming nightmare that hovers on my lips.
Like a poisoned kiss.
These eyes will open, and will always remember.
Screaming gravities that moved through us.
You wanted to see it all for yourself.
The dawning, a reforming of what was left to offer.
A thing moulded deep in the stomach of god.
Once called love.
Now twinkling like a Christmas star above us.
Stripped and salvaged from its tattered abandonment.
Where we found it, flat on the ground.
Walked over and left for dead.
Keep it now, safe and captured.
Like a flightless bird on the verge of extinction.
Like summertime on an autumn afternoon.
It fell from grace, our love; but now moves into place.
Filling the gaps that understanding failed to fill.
No dream.
Just the darkness caving in.



SEASONS OF A WANDERING HEART

Skyward pines


Saturday,

Today I went hiking on my own. I went up to the cathedral pines, there was no-one around. The weather played a part as it was raining most of the day. But the trail goes through the huge forests there so it was covered mostly. I waited until late afternoon as I wanted to catch the sun slipping away to sleep, to feel the trees awaken with the night. Creepy and weird I know, but I felt so much at peace. Probably not the safest of things to do, but I can handle myself…at least I think I can. There was much stillness coupled with feverish noises dotted about the place. I was amazed at how high some of the trees climbed, what energy is involved to create this thing that scratches the sky; all from a tiny seed. Nature never fails to amaze me. Such beauty and wonder nestles in those trees.

girl woods night

SKYWARD PINES

Under the trampled feet of the ghosts of the forest.
We lay in the soil, safe for a century.
Soaking the world in.
We turn away from forever, looking into the eyes of life.
Shooting, skyward.
Oceans away from the city of conformity.
An exquisiteness that waivers every day.
At the whim of the winds.
We are the pines.
Skeletons in season, breaking beauty as we trail the atmosphere.
Still as the tomb of tomorrow.
We watch the forest shiver and shake to a human beat.
Still with a taste of god in our mouths, breathing in his breath.
Dancing in the darkness as the world sleeps.
These pines.
Waiting once more to be cut down by those seeking our answers.
To get at the truth, down in our roots.


Taken from ‘Nothing But I Am’ 
OUT NOW


 

Keep it together (Revised edition)

OUT NOW

The summer of 1977, in the middle of a heat wave; the estranged children of the eccentric Van-Blacks all gather at the infamous Nova-Manor to discuss recent family developments over Fourth of July weekend. Their father is dying, & now wishes to build some bridges with his children before he shuffles off the mortal coil. Things begin to take an unusual twist with the arrival of Miss T., a Jamaican fortune teller who sweeps in under an air of mystery to perform a séance.

Secrets and truths slowly unravel, helped along by the butler Mr Perkins, who knows more about the past then perhaps he should. Ghosts, storms & mysteries in the attic all explode over the holiday weekend along with the fireworks. With a body on their hands & new truths revealed, they are all forced to question whether they can live with the knowledge that someone they love is a capable of murder. Independence comes at a price, & not everything is what it seems as they try to keep it together.

Book cover - keep it together

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Burning feathers

Taken from Nothing but I am


What scrapes at the inside of this skull?
Trying to break free from mirroring misery.
A bird trapped, or a candle with no flame.
Fighting against something that isn’t there.
Inside these reflections, dwells a silent creature.
Bound in feathers, but fearing flight.
Waiting to breathe, to fly, ignite.


Ignite