Stitch This

  • Pink for me

    Pink for me

    I am not a goth I don’t sigh to be a moth Round the Whitby jet black fang mad flame Round the well worn pub trek Round again There are those who hold penguin prints close Who are haunted by their literary ghosts Not me. I feel no need to shelve And file what made…

  • Out of the depths

    Out of the depths

    I used to read the Tales of the Martyrs And wonder at the variety of ends They came to as they held beliefs steadfastly Defiant ’til they dropped down, spent, away. My favourite was ‘pressing’ like olive oil Life seeping out between boards With each weight added inflicting More pressure than one could endure But…

  • Chain stitch

    Chain stitch

    do you love your life Not in a cliche, tv, sleb, thoughtless way Spouting the words without moving a cell. I mean do you wonder at how it all works How blood rushes round  Turning blue as it flows How the synapses crackle and spark in the gloom And the air moves with purpose And…

  • Chat like a metaphor

    Chat like a metaphor

    Chat Have you ever been naked when you speak? Not actually, I’m using a metaphor. When you suddenly realise you’re out in the light, and your skin is still pink and soft to the touch. It feels like the wind is whistling To cut, Like you could be knocked over and fall. When you open…

  • Tardis

    My life is like a tardis The Inside bigger than the out Small movements you see Are massive to me My thoughts fill the space that I can’t Time is at a different pace My speedometer is set rather low But someone refrained From telling my brain So everything Comes out too slow Ideas thoughts…