Mirror repeats night

Avoiding the mirror,
the ritual repeats:
she drapes it with linen every night
while the magpies sing.
She doesn’t want to see her broken
self. She shuns her body.

The same body
that once seduced the mirror,
back when nothing was broken.
But cruel time repeats,
the days add up and soon there is nothing to sing
about. Bodies fade like curtains; they fade like the night.

She hides away in bed at night;
fat layers of feathers stifle her body
so it can no longer sing.
She has failed to mirror
the love she gives back at herself. Self-loathing repeats
and amplifies until she feels broken.

Her soul, it is broken,
needs elevating on pillows. It throbs in the night
while the pulse in her veins repeats
the pain. Heat swells in her body,
her mind a cool mirror
that refuses to sing. Read More

Incumulonimbus

fog-1209205_1920

How does one love a cipher, spook or fraud?
An incubus who wishes he was dead,
Yet penetrates his succubus in bed —
Such symbiotic nurture I applaud
How does one grieve the loss of an illusion?
Can one apply the real to the fake?
Twin vanishing, chimera, come awake!
Must I consume and purchase a delusion?
This thing was never real, was just a gist
Infection with such vaguery I purge
And cleanse all lingering of fantasists
It’s time to salve the lesion of this scourge
To dress and heal the wound that does exist
Rebuild, let light and good again emerge

Tim

cigarette-110849_1280Thirty years since the boy who smelled of smoke and skin moved away
You were only ever my height in chunky-soled steel-capped shoes
Furrowed brow puff down on your cigarette, gaze into my lens with intensity
(The bad ones always look at you sternly with barely concealed hate)
I grew more in time, bought copies of records we listened to while we fucked
on the mattress-covered floor — single or double, take your pick — mostly single, facing the window, you riding me like a jockey in heat
Billy and Leonard — reptiles and black satin — booze and yiros you refused to share
Withheld emotions and a mean resolve — hugs from the flatmate who loved me more — on our knees, embracing our shared pain of losing you
Margot was her name, but I was a goddess (or so you said)
A lesser goddess you refused to worship, refused to consume but happy to use
A pain so familiar and comforting, it was all I was worth to be your temporary whore

Mother Gaia is on fire

fire

Mother Gaia is on fire
In her womb it burns and twists
Her flood of blood our exit wound
We are haemorrhaging
Caia Caecilia, goddess of fire
Protector of women
And hearth of home, container of fire
(Element of Gaia)
Save us all by shrinking flames
Create a heart(h) for our home
Our Mother Gaia
Contain the flames
But let the fire fuel our fight
Let it stay in our hearts
But not destroy us
Our anger’s bright
Our anger’s the thing that fuels the fight

While Gaia twists in uterine torsion
The head of her baby is squashed and dead
The brains of our leaders no longer work
They protect the tumour instead of the source
High ranking socios, psychos and pimps
They dance with the devil
In the dark of the shadows
Strangers to light they wander blind
Like moles out of tunnels
Can’t see what’s right Read More

Heal her by Melita White

My poem “Heal her”, published on Whisper and the Roar, explores the concept of self-parenting as a way to heal trauma.

Whisper and the Roar

people-2566854_1920
Hollow clavicle seared with hot poker
Let the sun shine and hear her sing
Pain that aches like an unmet heart
Part the clouds and paint her sky blue
Void like the arms of an empty hug
Fill them with flesh and please let it care
Hunger like the itch of an attention junkie
Feed her with love may it nourish anew
The sorrowful swoop of a downwards brushstroke
Turn it upside down and make her smile
A big fat blank where the future once was
Rewrite it loud in clean clear letters
The promise of a fuck refused yet wanted
Dance instead and hold her hands tight
Lust for the breast like a needy newborn
Whisper a lullaby to soothe her soft soul

Melita White is founder and writer of the blog Feminist Confessional, a space that features feminist poetry, essays and personal pieces in a confessional style, with…

View original post 20 more words