Untitled, unfinished, unknown
This is the only entirely autobiographical poem I've ever written. It was incredibly difficult and could only come out as free verse, which is fitting I suppose. I don't share it lightly, but for International Women's Day I think it's important to remind everyone that no matter what you've been through, someone else knows what it's like and has survived it as well. I don't for one second pretend that my situation was as dire as that of far too many women around the world.

Ossuary
It is the bones.
It is the rattle and crack of what remains
as the caws of the corvids scrape across tar,
crying for flesh; feeding their young.
The young remain
forced into the thousand crosses
of Calvary; bound as the countless
virgins frozen under the hands
that will raise them to whore.
Our nests are thorns dipped in gold.
Old temples crush the new
and call it charity. Images line the walls
of the grave.
Miracles run black over
withered palms; th
NaPM 2016 Day 30 -- the end is here!
Many thanks to milo and the good folk at Pig Pen Poetry for a fantastic month of inspiration and enjoyment. Topic 30: Write a poem about things ending Form: any Line requirements: 8 lines or more It ends
with a whimper
a simper
a Möbius stripper
a tripper
with coins on his eyes
a sunflower spiral surprise
a caramel camel
in painted enamel
and three kinds of burger with fries
one orientation
without aberration
one nation
with infinite
lies #NaPM2016 #ending #
NaPM 2016 Day 25
Topic 25: Write a poem inspired by a murder
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at Pig Pen Poetry Home The alley is silent. Rain glistens on concrete
and tar, stretching shadows beneath a single light.
She served drinks in the club until midnight. Still
in her stockings and heels, she walks home along
familiar streets, unconcerned. This is her city.
She turns into the alley, a shadow moves, she screams.
This only happens on the scr
NaPM 2016 Day 24
Topic 24: Write a poem inspired by a movie
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com No Redemption
Behind the woman is a wall
upon which she, two-dimensional, must abide
in silence. Men see flesh and are moved
to covet, but will not challenge he who
already possesses her. But he
is not those men. He uses her for misdirection,
discards her when she has served her time,
moves on to the next. Gradually, the wall
and
NaPM 2016 Day 15
Topic 15: Today is poet's choice day!! Write a poem inspired by whatever inspires you. Form : any Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com Song
Somewhere between the notes that tremble in the throat of some cosmic guitar, in a far, fireborn galaxy with only one simple sun, a lifegiving aureole, where the whole of existence resonates with unified melody and the free stars blink to the backbeat of the most divine drum, I will hum my li
NaPM 2016 Day 10
Topic 10: Write a "negative" poem or a poem that defines something or someone or yourself by what it or he or you are not (I am no friend of cats . . .)
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more Mythos I am no kind of saviour
I have shorn my own Samson lock
and served it up, silver-plattered, to
a Bathsheban stand-in starlet waiting in
wings of rotten traitor-bearing planks
until, pirate-fashion, the hook spikes
through necks bared to unremembered
never, nev
NaPM 2016 Day 4
Topic 04: Poems inspired by the French phrase "entre chien et loup" which is a phrase that loosely translate to "between a wolf and a dog" and is used to describe that time at twilight when it can be difficult to distinguish between a wolf and a dog or a situation when it is difficult to tell when something is benevolent or dangerous. Write a poem inspired by this.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com Man He is workin

The Poet's End
TS Eliot smoked himself to death. At the end,
he was more kipper than man, fit only for
consumption by his own cats. They were –
like the continuing and eternal success
of poetry – to remain in his imagination.
Lungs and poets have a poor relationship. For
Shelley, that didact and dire romantic target of Eliot’s
contempt, contemplation would have been more
profitable were it of sea-legs rather than those without
trunks. Even lovers cannot breathe the ocean.
D