Artisan
Her hands, Bony, veiny, strong, Have the arts of resurrection In them, those multiple Crafts of pleasure And spirit. She only uses pleasure in the Here and now, to bring… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
Her hands, Bony, veiny, strong, Have the arts of resurrection In them, those multiple Crafts of pleasure And spirit. She only uses pleasure in the Here and now, to bring… Continue Reading
In her quieter moments, When her daily lovers are asleep Or she has cast them aside for The solitude she needs to cast Her spells on them and the World,… Continue Reading
The victims are unknown. No count. No names. No memorial. In the crossfire of politics, Everyone dies. The ricochet of careless words Cannot be calculated Nor predicted. The paths of… Continue Reading
‘Your fingers are white,’ she said. ‘It’s cold outside,’ he said, leaned back In the new chair on the wood floor She’d polished the day before. ‘An irrelevance.’ He didn’t… Continue Reading
He still doesn’t know, Thirty-four years later, what Made him pick up the phone That say to call the eyes he Dreamed about, those green Lakes of vanishing, and ask… Continue Reading
He looks in the mirror sometimes too seldom. Lost too much weight. Not strong enough. Flexes. Smiles. The universe says you are a Collection of chance atoms blown by the… Continue Reading
celebration yesterday’s sunset in the rearview mirror framed between black clouds. this morning’s awakening in the dark, my lover breathing by my side. coffee. soggy fields and hard paths, and… Continue Reading
moved. wrap. console. the empty space. spaces. blank. vacant. nothing here. bones as sand. all that. white. is pause. wrap. no heart beat. dust. arms. stretched. open. empty. nothing to… Continue Reading
earsplitting: politicians’ rhetoric the right wing cacophony lying alternative facts main stream media red top headlines brexiters libertarians extremists fake news mute: the damned the innocent the dying R 20/11/2023… Continue Reading
He’s the last one on the train As it rumbles its way to the terminus, Midnight long since gone, the night Empty and dense, rain drops on The glass. When… Continue Reading