A pink-blue horizon, a sky speckled with the softness of uncertain clouds, The waves gently crashing, and the ocean, calling with beckoning mouths The waters melt away the world, stripping bare all the day Holding my breath on all of the words you know I never needed you to say Hair wet and dripping, skin … Continue reading The Beach
writing
Summer Day Sadnesses
Watching the world turn through a series of paint-marker windows, Of barely square houses, not homes, Drawn poorly and hung on the fridges of week-to-week mothers, With cashed checks strewn on the street, and fathers, all fucking deadbeat, Why do they always pack up and leave? Moments, passing in front of me. Houses all full … Continue reading Summer Day Sadnesses
Children Of Men
Out past the blinking lights of electric existence, far beyond the polluted horizons- A single cry echoes across the clamouring earth. From the dirtied, used, ruined bellies of haggard mistakes falls an angel. Never has anything purer graced the soil upon which that miracle lays- For this glorious moment, all of human filth, destruction, hatred, … Continue reading Children Of Men
A Fictional Letter Of Unrequited Love.
My dear, how do I tell you I love you so that it rings truer than any other triplet of words you’ve heard? So that the sincerity, the profundity, of my honest convictions can permeate into the depths of your well-kept soul. This conundrum would deprive me of countless nights of summer night’s sleep during … Continue reading A Fictional Letter Of Unrequited Love.
Tired
Sat down at a creaking desk, With a broken pen and rusty hands, I write this down; The draft from the window gives my skin a texture, My coffee is cold. It’s raining outside again - I’m yawning once more Huddled in a borrowed jumper, I’ve almost found the right words – But not … Continue reading Tired
The Pointlessness of Poetry
Cynicism is my new addiction, fuck it load me up- Give me one more hit of bitter, god I’ve missed this high Jesus I feel low I embrace my futility and never look for meaning Dismissing true connection for my own self-hating And books that will never love me back – not I believe in … Continue reading The Pointlessness of Poetry
Butterflies
Last night I dreamt of butterflies, made from silk, then light, then paper – Fluttering between my words and breaths, our eyes were ships, and my hands an anchor We were swept away in tides of fallen wings, dark-veined and too fragile to touch – I watched as they crumbled in my irises, into waves … Continue reading Butterflies
Pray For Rain
I think perhaps I may have prayed too hard for rain; The white clouds have been bruised, beaten purple with my insistent demands Water squeezed, stolen from the pores of the empty skies Terrified fling themselves to the Earth - No, it is not water that falls, but tears Tears falling down from her heavenly … Continue reading Pray For Rain
The Park Before Dawn
Dancing under streetlights and between cigarette smoke, Following the tendrils out of your mouth, tracing your warm lips with my cold fingertips- Listening to blurry music – sharing faded songs Shivering under the stars but holding on to each other and feeling warm. Sharing breaths, passing the stardust between our blue parted lips, Teaching you … Continue reading The Park Before Dawn
Cogito Ergo Sum
Drifting through space, thoughts on the wind, memories fluttering across the mind Never settling on the petals of gyri, like restless butterflies – hovering over the wrinkles of corpus-callosum grey skies Existentialism spills existence all over my brain – but the windows of solipsism confines the flood to my head Only scepticism, leaking out … Continue reading Cogito Ergo Sum
Alicia Jones Poetry 