#NaPoWriMo 2021 – Day One – Migraine Metropolis

It’s time to chase lights
whirl-pooled in static charge.

My aerial must have blown loose
with all the colours bursting through.

Tongue tied, this organ has turned rubber
and the words bounce back into my throat.

I am sorry I asked you to be quiet,
but this volume control seems to have broken.

Brass band clustered in the corner of my vision…
why only play spoons across brittle knees?

Wish I could make a cushion out of these bones
or drive one sharp enough through the pain point.

All this chaos petered out into a slow rocking
of landlocked sea sickness where I flounder.

Drown me in something other than brightness,
let me find a room dark enough in which to sleep.

Where The Water Breaks #DVersePoets #TuesdayPoetics

There’s a sheen to the water,

a swirl of slick, slurp, sludge

squirming up the beach

surfing old tidal rips

to suck down feathered flurries,

their bone stuck wings

submerged to make stones

with panicked beady eyes,

staring up at a surface


startled starlings swooping

in a grey choked sky

and a small child

with a face still plump young,

trying to break the glass

with one fat finger,

all the while calling

for his mother to come

and look.




I imagined that she was some great coastal cliff. Stone strong for thousands of years, but now the sea has managed to find a way between the cracks and it’s taking her apart in chunks.

It doesn’t sound like a landslide though. She doesn’t shriek and splinter as pieces of her sheer away from herself. There’s only silence as another memory, another name, another face, slips beneath the waves and into darkness where it can’t be reached.

There are still pieces of her left. Like fossils, preserved inside the depths of the cliff face. On days where it seems like everything has crumbled, they can find a way to the light.

The willow withered

its roots turned to dust and ash

but it kindles still.