Reflections, of sorts, in verse, of sorts.

Month: September, 2012


Bend you. Slowly
run my hands across
the folds. And
again. Now
small and ready
with me you will travel

photo Jo ©2012


Every Day

That train
cowcatcher smile
bearing down the tracks
and us
out front on a handcart
pumping in hysterics
because —

So what?
at least
we’re together

photo Jo ©2012

Paint On Me

Paint on me
without pallet or a brush
Use your hands to spread
the colours ‘cross my cuts
my blemishes my bruises

Let oranges meet pinks
and purple embrace red once more

Work until you are fulfilled
and I am transformed
into your favourite
abstract mess

photo Jo ©2012

Labor To Embrace

I long for my hands to hold
or command paint and color
or the slender neck of a green
guitar. Instead they only choke this
plastic feather spilling
blue-green merchandise which
you must labor to embrace.

It is work and I’m afraid
dire flower
that you will not find this
blotted type of making love
as worthy or as easy and so never
let me hold
you still.

photo Jo ©2012

Simply Feeling

Simply feeling
does not make a poet
for all men feel
all women. Poetry instead
is the tweaking of those cogs
and pulleys, bolts and wheels
that make us
want to run.

photo Jo ©2012

That or the Crack of a Match

Tearing paper
the sound every
made up superhero

photo Jo ©2012