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Bathwater

Sometimes I draw the bath so hot

I can barely take it

. My breath comes in short pulses 

My hands and legs tremble

Blood rushing around my body

. So I stand upand get out looking like

a chicken plucked pink,

before getting back in

. Scalded,

over, and, over,

Purified

. Dipping in and out

like bread in wine,

with each motion saying

. Still –

Alive, 

alive, 

alive.

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I now also write Good Omens fan fiction: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48851920/chapters/123236155

Which is personally exciting for me because I have been terrified of prose for the better part of a decade 💕

– spoiler FREE for season 2 –

#good omens #good omens 2 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

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Bathwater

Sometimes I draw the bath so hot

I can barely take it

. My breath comes in short pulses 

My hands and legs tremble

Blood rushing around my body

. So I stand upand get out looking like

a chicken plucked pink,

before getting back in

. Scalded,

over, and, over,

Purified

. Dipping in and out

like bread in wine,

with each motion saying

. Still –

Alive, 

alive, 

alive.

#poem #poetry #original poetry #Blinkhorn

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Birdhouse

There must have been some sort of thunderstorm

the day my soul was twinned with my body.

.

Not to sound pretentious, (I mean, 

it’s the sort of thing Byron could have said)

it’s just so fractious and changing

it lives in me for summer and winters

elsewhere.

.

I woke up and hated all my clothes

again

and looked through eyes that could not recognise me

again

.

Ah! Back to the other closet,

I’ll rummage there, 

I wonder how long this transformation will last?

.

My soul has gone walkabout across the moors,

I’ve learned long ago to leave it be,

sink into my other life, 

and leave the light on before I sleep.  

#poem #poetry #original poem #Blinkhorn

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Being Real

When I was young(er)

I wanted to stand by the edges and ledges,

never in a room nor outside it

never admiring the view nor falling

– I believed this was peace.

.

I liked sounds that could consume you,

the roar of a waterfall or 18-wheeler,

it removed the need to say anything

or to be anything other than memories. 

.

But that was a character, I wanted to be fictional,

to speak my predetermined lines and vanish (tragically),

popping up like a jack-in-the-box 

at the crack of a tome. 

.

When wanted.

. 

Still the mirror speaks -

I am ageing ever spitefully -

and that rattling energy becomes more focused.

.

Some of my friends have stepped into that roar and off the page,

and would you know it,

they punched holes out of the world as they went.

.

It has helped to turn that searing razor-blade-pain into love,

a dormant bag of destruction like a match-box. 

It has helped so see life eked out, light by light,

the glory of turning older.

.

Being real requires a manifestation of will,

we make our reality every day, and choose to live inside it,

Every day a candle burns down, 

every day we light another,

 - I believe this is peace.

#poem #poetry #sad poem #Blinkhorn #original poetry #original poem

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Orion

Poor Orion out there in the dark,

With belt and sword and light adorned,

He reminds me more of a teenager,

Rather than a soldier of old.

.

His light bright as flame,

Is cold, and lost among many more,

Oh to be a diamond among a sea of diamonds

– who could bear to shine and not be seen?

.

But one may see you and hope for you yet,

And look every night for a man burning bright,

If only to feel some kinship in knowing

That hope against hope is not solely human.

.

I wake up and think on the day,

Keenly feeling the love I failed to gather,

I too, am a beacon,

Who shines out for ever, against the dark.

#poem #blinkhorn #poetry #poets on tumblr #tumblr poetry #my poetry

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Bedtime Routines

Death is a fair-weather friend.

She lives in my mirror,

she frightens me at night.

.

She used to sit 

out on the porch

on a perpetually warm,

summer’s evening,

and gulp ice tea,

and chocolate,

and reach out her claw-like hand 

touch my chin

and say –

come out, come out...

.

Wherever you are.

.

I was so tired,

and it was very warm,

that’s what I tell myself.

.

Now she is more like an echo

the reverberation after a great bell strikes,

hanging in the air, oppressive, yet comfortingly

final.

. 

I cling to you,

I bunch up your shirt in my fists when you sleep,

and I pray in endless ways 

for rain, for sleep, and for

breath in the morning.

#poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #death #sad #Blinkhorn #original poetry #original poem #anxiety

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October Again

Yellow boots; Muddy spaniel:

.

Old ladies who know better than us,

Comb out their golden crowns,

Wave us off and say:

Come back when I wake up.

.

I wonder if nature knows

That we need comfort even in a world

Which has lost its seasons -

And gives us her harvest

Whether it eaten or rotten

Be.

.

Thank you for the rain

And the darkness

For the reminder that everything golden

Also needs to end.

#blinkhorn #poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #tumblr poetry #my poetry

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River Reflections

My friend

How long have you been lost

To the dark waters?

.

And is it you or himself

The heron goes looking for

Tonight

.

I wish I could take the taste

Of this evening - mild and free -

And pour that in your cup

.

My friend

How long have you been lost

To the dark waters

Edging ever closer

Like an inverted

Narcissus

Getting so fearfully close

.

To breaking the surface

And birthing yourself

Out into the world

Again?

#poem #poetry #blinkhorn #poets on tumblr #tumblr poetry #my poetry

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Take me from my dreaming,

Although half a mind in chosen

Hallucination has gotten me this far

There is a danger to dreaming too much

Like drinking rich wine - like port -

Floating away

Toes dragging on the carpet

.

And I could stay there

But the lady in the yellow wallpaper

Would get to me eventually,

No matter what wonderful things wait for me

Over there, beyond, unobtainable.

.

So bring me down, hauled in,

Whisper something of sunshine

And the grass that grows in the meadows

Growing, so real, out of the earth.

.

And I will halt my reverie

If only to speak with you

And be held, securely,

In the reality of your arms.

#my poetry #poetry #poem #original poem #blinkhorn

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Parents and Children

After a lifetime of knowing

only

minutes and glimpses of you

I’ve used 

my childish imagination to knit

a great quilt of you out of my skull

(it’s not as bad as you think)

.

It’s made up of hours where only 

seconds mattered 

(I left you lonely when I grew up)

I collected them all 

into a single fine thread:

it’s what you taught me 

and the rest we can forget,

(maybe I know when you’re pretending 

because I pretend the same)

. 

And now you’re sick.

And you’re scared but you want to go.

.

I promise I’ll keep only what I’ve knit,

only minutes and not hours of you,

(I weep that you’re still unhappy)

when someone says what a beautiful quilt,

frayed and patched but, honest somehow,

I’ll lie and say yes that’s all, that’s all, that’s all

it ever was.

#poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #original poetry #Blinkhorn

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For Zara

God came gathering roses,

and all the buds of the peonies too,

and her teardrops were like stars

in her long black hair.

.

Across the horizon

like a lay line on the world

a new sadness

like a scar, she walked.

.

'You have reaped so many

I will not let these bloom 

for you, either.’  

#poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #Blinkhorn #original poem #on violence

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The Visit

Sadness came to visit the house yesterday

and once in he would not leave.

He came carrying pictures of you

in his briefcase.

.

And he ate all our food

tea and cream cakes,

dragging his heavy knuckles

round and round, pacing,

putting up his pictures 

and gnashing his teeth.

.

Over a few days he grew quieter

until he was just a dark shadow next to the door.

We woke up one day and lo, he was gone,

and on the walls were patches

where the sun had burned around

the pictures of you.

#poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #TUMBLR POETRY #Blinkhorn

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Who

Who was it that struck me

lit me alive 

in the gasp of a moment.

.

Was it the darkness

soft, caressing?

Was it the light,

guiding, nudging?

.

It was birdsong in January

It was birth in Autumn

It was stars brighter than I’d ever seen

It was the Aurora Borealis

It was the flowers reclaiming their graves

It was the kingfisher who twinkled just for me

.

Who picked me up and said

To rest is to be alive 

And put me back

where I belonged.

#poetry #poem #poets on tumblr #Blinkhorn

[blinkhorn]

5 On Healing

I look in the mirror

I am all the selves

Young, old, male, female, victim, warrior– 

They slide past like a deck of cards

I am this self

Twenty-five, chronically-ill, in-love, 

Healing.

.

And yes they made permanent changes

they tore through the ground I grew in,

but now I am the one on hands and knees

planting seeds in my own garden.

It’s March Now. 

. 

He has bent himself over me like an umbrella.

.

I look in the mirror 

I am all the selves 

put my hand to the glass 

I feel them pushing back

.

Thank you for staying here with me

I thought I was fire burning 

but I am the sleepy river

always continuing,

always returning.

.

#poem #poetry #mental health #Blinkhorn #poems on mental health #poets on tumblr

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Cyclical

And so the fractured day

just breaks the surface

heaves its breath

and coughs us out

with it.

.

Another evening unfurls its sails

– I wanted a miracle this day

Another bottle caps the ship

– I wanted perfection this day

Another pile of sand crumbles

– I wanted success this day

Another piece of yarn is spun

– I wanted to (overcome myself) this day.

.

Life right now 

is making art in the sand

every day all over again

as the waves erase its meaning.

#poem #poetry #original poem #blinkhorn #covid

[blinkhorn]

Fears

Choose me,

against your better judgement,

a spectre of your past a

ghost haunting your 

future.

.

Select me

like a piece of chocolate

delectable in appearance 

consumed in a single

bite.

.

And wash me away

like blood from a paving stone

running down a stone stairway

into the ocean and

all the way

home.

.

Love me

against the grain of my soul,

against the tide of my fears,

against the destiny of my past,

and into someone

different?

#poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #TUMBLR POETRY #original poetry #Blinkhorn