Tap, tap,tap

Concentration

Inspiration is your aspiration

You hear nothing but your own thoughts

I’m wasted and watching

Drinking and inhaling

the cruel comfort it gives

Living the low life with you

© Katy Hughes 2012

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(A work in progress & in constant evolution...)

What would say William Blake if he saw this world post-revolution?

What would he say if he had been witness of the greatest cataclysm of

human heart?

What would he think about universalization when his gaze turned to

New America?

Can its spirit be dumb?

He  wrote an answer in the form of a lullaby.

Howev...

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Relentless June rain juggles summer of performance

To the rolling up of realisation, also someone’s daughter                                                        

Equestrian misses whipping mistress, remains martyred loner     

Highly billed, sought after, ticketed circus owner

Medium of intuition dangles planchette of indecision

To your high wire of collusion, an in...

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You:

I walked out on a white world,
I changed within it, as the cold remembered me and let me in.
I stumbled towards the cover of the sky,
And found the corpse suspended in the liquid jar.
I bled onto the soft carpet, and the blotting paper puddle oozed
until it disappeared beneath a new layer of lies.
I was the corpse,
Was I looking at my future or my past?
Nothing...

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Fifty two

Thirty eight

Embraces the world

Wants to escape

Sociable

Self absorbed

Deeply romantic

Goth whore

Keeps it safe

Takes the risk

Something he’s found

Everything she’s missed

Entwined we find

A mercurial kind

Of love,

Understood, undefined

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Love turns the other cheek

absorbs the sting

lingers on the memories

of better times

treads water

holds back tides

hides fear

to steer its course

through arid land

sows understanding

to a hostile soil

waits faithfully

waits patiently

for seed to grow

from deep abyss

to planted kiss

then

like a dolphin

basking in the early m...

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A prisoner in your skin ...

discreetly the night slips between my sheets, in the verses of dawn,

sketching ecstatically the loud kiss that grows in my body,

there where the brilliance becomes eternal

and consciousness of myself in your hands,

I do not know if this is an adventure or a creation of my madness.

Naked ...

I pour out shamelessly the pleasures of the ...

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Love, what is this bliss, I do not know?

Denied all act of an emotion,

That encases the heart, and clenses the soul.

Solitude, is this all I live for?

Destined-confined to this wild abyss,

Or am I meant to fall on loves path;

Embrace its soft kiss.

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I asked my husband this morning

To make me marmite on toast

Lightly toasted please

Lots of butter

Lots of marmite

Cut into triangles

Pooling and chaotically spread

It arrives

Two whole slices

Slightly burnt

Marmite and butter evenly spread

I smile gratefully, yet I’m perplexed

If I asked my lover to do the same

Would he get it righ...

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