Shy boy video
Link tree
Paper bomb
If we could read all the love letters
the poetry projected over the years
the ink would form the night
the words stars
the sun our intention to love
Would rise every time we wrote the words
the sky and birds
would scream we are alive
I would use the paper and poems we wrote
to drop from the sky
letters and prayers from us to god
to breach the void between us
The elation of creation
within our United Nations.
Somebody’s love
The villain video
The best poem never written
Undead poetry
whispers of poems in every generation
long forgotten
bodies may decay and become rotten
But the words hang in the cold fresh autumnal air.
The undead poet from their grave may save
humanity still
it’s a battle of wills
selling poetry at bookshop tills.
softness and grace left in memories of one’s who knew them the most
although it’s his words live on like ghosts
a gnarled wizard staff
summons the poets craft
summoning words and stanzas
and questions rhymes and answers
Pulling them from sleepy faded ink
to relive times and make us think…
Poets against humanity
If poets continue to circulate their work after death what does an undead poet look and sound like?
A manual for being human
Exit womb
enter hospital room
feed of your mums breast
grow big and strong
play and learn
have an active imagination
listen to the voice that guides you
and makes the most sense
write your story present tense
find beauty in what you like to do
it’s that simple
Make your smile into dimples
don’t focus on looks
it’s your soul being tempered
by life’s fires
give it what it wants
you can change the narrative even if it’s the font
remember people love you even if life gets in the way
be a compassionate friend to yourself first