Poetry, Uncategorized

It’s release day for my poetry collection, A Book For Pandora!

Greetings, everyone!

A Book for Pandora has been a while in the making, so I’m delighted to finally be able to share it with you.

Those of you who have been following me since the beginning may recognise many of the poems in this collection, as most of them originated as drafts on this very blog. Of course, they have since been tweaked and fine tuned over the years until I was happy with them – which, being of the perfectionist type, was quite hard for me to do – and have now been neatly ordered and presented in one solid tome.

So, without further ado, here it is in paperback and on Kindle.

A Book for Pandora

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Poetry

Skeleton

‘Hold out your hands,’ she says

and places the silver key on my palms,

it fits across both perfectly. ‘It can

open any door you choose, anywhere.

Keep it close, always.’

 

So I swallow the key. Safe in my belly

it stays, and safe from my memory

until every door I face

declares it’s locked.

 

It can’t be. It can’t be.

 

The memory stirs and I try to regurgitate.

It doesn’t work, and the doors laugh.

 

From inside me, the key calls out.

Unlock.

 

The doors are silenced by my voice.

I swallowed the key

and became it.

 

Poetry

Bookmark

I turn the page, resting my voice for a second

and catch your gaze on me, eyes bright

and full of delight.

You’ve said many times

that my reading voice is magical.

I wouldn’t have believed you if you hadn’t looked at me that way every time.

If I didn’t know

you’d never

use words that were untrue just to flatter me.

Your words are always true,

as is your encouragement.

As is your love.

And so I shall read for you

until the years catch us up

and I can read no more.

Poetry

To you. The one in my head, always.

Who I’ve conversed with

in one way or another

since the day our platonic love,

our friendship,

our wall-breaking

started.

 

Now, we are a couple.

Yes.

We. Are. A. Couple.

We had no barriers before.

We have no locks now.

 

I literally gave you a key,

because the idea of you coming to me

and finding the door

shut

is disturbing and painful

for us both.

 

You once asked me

how I would feel if we didn’t talk for a day.

I answered that I tried it,

and you sent me a message

just as I broke and began composing my own.

 

I just don’t think we can do it.

I don’t want to do it.

Your words, your voice…

they’re oxygen.

 

And I’m still wearing your hoodie.

 

Poetry

Rolling chances

How do you weave a web

if you don’t have a corner to claim as your own?

 

How do you spin the spindle

if there is no wheel or thread to be found?

 

How do you sing a note

when your voice is too worn to be heard?

 

And when do you have a chance

to raise your hand

when the forest is already crowded?

Poetry

Throw me your voice

Your voice can turn my head no matter what task I’m at,

lift my nose from any book, draw my eyes to your face

even if you’re nowhere near.

It can still my heart in the most anxious of moments,

ease my breath

and restore the balance to my mind.

Whether only in my my thoughts or right here beside me,

you are the remedy

to all my doubts.