All the poems featured on this page are excerpts from my two books The God-like Things (2021) and Moonhold (2019). All rights reserved. 

steel blue cool

you said i have husky eyes
and maybe almost i married you

a train runs on steel blue
eyes mirror my past life and maybe i use this
to harness myself through the late nights

don’t be afraid.
the end was so far ahead it is already behind us
just call it horizon, it’s narrowing dark times
i arrive at the land of thousand fires
this place feels like a person, this beckoning
me towards itself so known, so clear
a mystic letter lays in the centre of my palm

it’s steel blue cool with grey wolf skies
tempted kneeling to witness
two tiny native
snowdrops grow in shade

i like you like

i like you
like oltremarino
a special shade of blue
found only overseas
like Positano
like salt water wearing skin
bare thighs and shy freckles on my arms
like a whole slow day in bed
with silk curtains snaking winds
holding years of miles
like a voice that crosses the land of ice
and changes the course of my blood
like seconds that enter and refuse to leave
tracing promised hands along the quiet archway of my waist
like uncrowded paved streets towards a small white chapel
like eyes of heaven, so clear
like a love ritual repeating i do
each day, as if only to feel
this entire, this
fully
i like you like i love you
sacred, intimate and always

venice in veils

white snow fell
it should have been veils on my shoulders

a snow so white —
it is scraping windows and shredding stars
erasing streets and stairs
i never knew how far we’d walked

a snow so white …
it should have been veils falling on my shoulders
it should have been forever
now only venice is in veils

no.
this is snow, this is snow

and this snow is so white, it is red
and the red cardinal is here
and the red snow begs for ink
snowdrops get here before me
maybe spring really is near

how can life forget?
i am holding a pulse
pumping imprints, shaping skins

and there are loves
greater than all other loves and forevers
i’ll know them only when i am a mother

my prince of blue

because the frail wing
trembling in black possessive mud
is a voice stranded by words and
the night eats words

i walk towards it sharpened by desire
sometimes it seems human

maybe this is the only way
for my pillow to keep its gentle spell of dreams

because i need a place where i can hold you

you should know
i’ve become every altar across three continents

you should know
i’ve become every animal you’ve left behind

my prince of blue
night is better
i am afraid, glorious
and ethereal
water is poseidon and
the sky opens its mouth wide of fireflies
i land cool rain of thousand fires
in ash we are born

sometimes this place feels almost human

tuck away this moon behind my ear

tuck away the moon behind my ear

aura of royal blue
butterflies migrating south
& each word is longer, further
away from where you are

if i ever forget you i’ll know i’ve gone too far

somewhere on the radio
is how i feel about you
is our summer afternoon
leftover flowers gather on the side of the road
each window carries its own
little rain
night car
in winds and wants
designing skybreaks
because the full moon is children’s book gigantic tonight

and maybe it’s the impossibilities that
make us so possible

so come your eyes & tuck away this moon behind my ear

dear stone garden

dear stone garden: you smell of magnolia
damiana, sweet orange and rose

yesterday he built me a country
where he stretched his long shadow and
i laid flat where i could sleep
(there may be mud on the carpet tonight)

i lazy the bed to question my ego
i throw love when loyalty undoes me
press ancient truth into my palm like fortune
for the future i know i begin

i say to the dark, look
everything is shifting into something else
of river’s fate and human time
as every earth goes round his moon

dear stone garden: he’s a night possessor
but life is just souls changing clothes
the carpet will have mud tonight because
there is a nightingale in my heart

changing woman weaving house

the woods are waiting for me tonight, dear stone fruit:

so i run fast over the wild land of returning paths
destiny chasing my heels, i enter
changing woman weaving house
where the otherworld is everywhere

weaving the integrity of emeralds, sacred lovers
tenderness in tents and the souls of the thousand white wolves
and so i weave, dear stone fruit:

to intuit fire i
am moon water i
am white shell
woman

and so we weave, dear stone fruit:
clouds into winds, tides for the fishermen
lyric of hearth and the seed of the eagleman
weaving, spinning the ever creating
web of wyrd

under the constant beat of the only sound there is:
of love

of hands and marriage

his hands are an old marriage
wrinkles of care and i sink into folds
of touch is touch, years in the making
holding on holding strong
but even strength is fragile

i hold steadfast under strain
but i too need to be held

and this is how we loved
years of lines connecting other lines
on palms lines stay and other lines
circle like courting hawks

but the most beautiful part of hands is where they touch now

and now is not too late
and tomorrow is also
not too late

sweet child of mine

sweet child of mine,
i know you worry but look around

twilight shadows have fallen tucking in the earth
and the night is busy too as she wraps stars
into the hair of the goddess moon who is preparing
to dance in lushness with princes from distant lands

so lay your head in peace, sweet child of mine
close your eyes as the earth is closing hers too
take refuge in the quiet corner of your heart
and know that tomorrow the laugh of
the sun’s cheerful head will wake us up again

and i will take your hand
and we’ll figure it out then

like air are you, am i

there is so much i want to tell you
but the life this bench gives us is short

and i took nothing. nothing

and then

a memory like air
like air: you are
are you: like air

if i walk through you
would i disappear?

if i wear an umbrella
is it me causing the rain
or am i just a premonition?