Having a fire every night:

Getting it started is the hardest thing, 

But once its going its pretty easy to keep on. 

A cleansing ritual, 

4 logs a night, 5 if I’ve had a bad day. 

I just watch it.

It makes me feel small, insignificant 

Compared to the heat and power in front of me. 

But sometimes I look and I see vulnerability, 

The hint of fragility in between the flickers.

Coming down in the morning I can smell its remains

Lingering in the corners of the room.

The secrets it charred the night before, 

A memory of the act of forgetting. 

Mother Stage

Each night a new day, no guilt, no fear.

Disappointment is unknown because I am but just born.

Baptised in pools of light and the tears of onlookers relaxing on red velvet

I stand here clean, innocent for a time.

All humanity cleansed through my eyes, the eyes of a child,

Brand new, no scars, unjaded by surviving lies.

Precious moments live lifted off the page,

Nothing lost, still time to win.

All the world watches while life lives in the reflections of patrons.

Bored

Lines of squares dissected by lines,

Imperfect circles try to meet in the middle.

Divided in half and half again,

A kaleidoscope in black and white

Tying knots in the straightness.

Never ending patterns just above the foundations,

Where shards of the outside spill over the threshold.

Lights flicker and the shadows change again:

A moment snaps, the squares form new lines.

Said and done

When all is said and done.

When can ‘all’ possibly be said and done?

All of what?

It’s a line for the end of the world.

As the galaxies implode

And rush through the universe to return to the start.

Only then should you say to me –

‘when all is said and done’.

Found writing

Your sadness

When you smile, your whole body smiles.

Your fingers and toes,

Your knees and even your ears beam

With a joy that I never knew was in you.

It is the most wonderful thing in my life.

You lift my mood with your smile,

You make me forget my troubles with your smile,

You’ve changed my life with your smile.

But it’s the same when you are sad.

There are days when I look at you

and can practically see the sorrow pouring from your eyes.

I remember one day wishing I had the courage

to hold you in my arms so that I will never lose you.

As if your beautiful spirit might slip away

if I didn’t hold on to it tightly.

But I never did, and your spirit slips still.

"I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear."
- Joan Didion

“In my experience, the best creative work is never done when one is unhappy. “
- Albert Einstein

“If any man wish to write in a clear style, let him be first clear in his thoughts; and if any would write in a noble style, let him first possess a noble soul.”
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“Authors who never give you something to disagree with never give you anything to think about.”

- Michael LaRocca

“The only time I know that something is true is the moment I discover it in the act of writing.” “
- Jean Malaquais

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.” “
- Anais Nin

“Writing is thinking on paper.” “
- William Zinsser

“One of the things that draws writers to writing is that they can get things right that they got wrong in real life by writing about them.” 
- Tobias Wolff

Block

Blank.

Totally, absolutely, completely fucking blank.

A frightening thought: the only one echoing in the dark.

- Blank.

Blank, and lost.....

Totally, absolutely, completely fucking lost.

Overwhelmed and under stimulated.

Waiting for inspiration.