Feminism is the radical notion that women are people said someone famous. That sums up feminism better than any long winded definitio...

Monday, 31 March 2014


The words that we weave,
framing into a net,
trying to pin down,
the bird of memory.
She can't be tied down,
she has grown wings,
she will fly away.

our only tools,
the blunt hammer
with which we try
to carve out  images
of that which has already flown away,
but with no chisel at hand.

Only empty space
and reams of surreal celluloid
in the head.
And an aching heart.

Wednesday, 26 March 2014


A part of my body
A part of me.

Two lumps of lard,
my pound of flesh,
jutting out of my chest,
standing out,
apart from the rest.

All they have endured
over the years.
So many devices
to keep them in place.

push up bras,
cleavage revealers,

All to one end,
to hold and
to fix the gaze
of the male.

Reminded since the dawn of time,
my worth will be gauged,
by the proportions of fat to sinew,
ability to attract a mate.

To keep me safe
I must cover all of me,
Hide me from your gaze,
Limbs, hair, skin, face.

Areolas, nipples,
just as those on a man
minus the fat
and the milk,
there for a reason,
to feed little babies.

So when you look at me
why is it not I that you see
Am I nothing more
Than this part of me?

Tuesday, 25 March 2014


Pour you out on paper,
the inkstains will bring,
some respite:
stormy weather,
and eventide.
Till the rising sunlight
drowns out all hope from me.
Giddy colours, abound
Where shall I hide ?

Thick with laceration,
this skin
gives me away
Does me in.

Let me revel in it,
and ride this wave
It's been long
since we lost each other,
Hold me to yourself,
and I'll be whole again.

Welcome home, my love,
my sweetheart,
my pain.

Together Again

Eyes shot through with ache,
skin that crumbles to touch.
This sense of fulsomeness,
Ah ! we're back together, again,
my pain and I !

Scrape through this layer
it runs pretty thin.
Scratch the abrasion,
not much it can hide.

Thin skin :
little leverage it provides,
for the aches seep through,
trickle over me,
like a sowly rising tide.

This intimacy we share,
not much can keep us apart-
a shallow layer keeps me sane,
till we straddle the edge, again.

Tear out this shell,
pull out the entrails;
examine closely what it hides
this strange carapace.

Like shards of sunlight
stuck into the dark,
the sunny light of smiles
embalm me,
freezes my insides.

Let me glory in the soreness,
gouge out every nerve.
Drown me and silence
my every scream for respite.

When the ache sublimes
and runs to tears;
yet there isn't enough,
Endlessly repeats my mind
"Snuff, snuff "

My pain is home again,
my best beloved is here.
and what a twosome we make,
Agony and I !

Saturday, 22 March 2014


Into the calmness of your presence
I drop a pebble of my glance,
or maybe a fragrance.
Something with which,
I can touch,
cause a ripple or two.
In the serenity of you.

Friday, 21 March 2014

Pleasure Delayed

I steal away these moments,
turn them into memories
stamp them with my love's eye
stored forever in me
To retrieve at leisure,
the tiny fragments of pleasure
Roll them over on the tongue
of my mind.
This pleasure to myself
denied for now,
delayed its consummation.
So it is locked away.
Relish each bite sized trip,
So you may last all eternity.

The Purge

Here we go!

The emotions hurtling
out of me.
A large slimy ball like thing
A creature, a new being.
It pours out of me,
maybe if I let it go,
of you,
I can purge me.

And there it sits
do you see it ?
I put it out there
For you to see
The strands entwined,
There, see !

Tuesday, 18 March 2014


Sometimes in the midst
of the bustle
of the busy day,
your memories beckon me.
I pause;
my burdens,
I lay down,
for a moment.
A glimpse of heaven,
is bestowed upon me.

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Today Is My Day

I know better now,
I'm wiser.
Life tastes bitter,
Other times, it's nectar.
I wish I could reach out
to the young girl,
and tell her,
she, full of angst:
you will be alright,
these are but pangs
of growing; and
some self inflicted pain.
with the yawning hole
of the lack of love,
Wanting to be assured,
that she's competent;
tell her:
yes, you are enough,
on your own, sufficient.
Extend to her a kindly hand,
so she may pick up
and choose her strands.
Weave with them,
or splice them up,
if it so pleases:
Make the patterns yours,
of that which you adore.
Help with the questions
that would  haunt:
"who am I ?"
tell the little girl
no, you're no pawn
you are who you are
of accoutrements, shorn.
Tell her :
you are what you make
of people around you -
grasp at the goodness
that comes your way.
Carve it, into yours,
whatever you take.
Forgive yourself,
the little slip ups,
the challenges passed over
for fear you wouldn't
make the cut.
In talking to my younger self.
learn from the lessons.
Take a deep breath,
Let go of the heartache,
mould the pain-
etch on it your name.
Hew it with your sinews,
and stake your claim.
Little girl lost isn't
your role to play.
You, woman,
are your own worth
In your own words
you can tell your tale.
Yesterday is no more,
Today is your day.

Monday, 10 March 2014

The Body Remembers

Like wave upon wave,
washing ashore,
comes heaving upon me
a floatsam of memories-
of you.
My body remembers,
each speck of your touch.
Every sinew extends
at the recall.
The coils of the serpent
of desire
sneak up,
spread out,
This hydra headed monster,
leaps out from every pore,
licks me,
tickles me.
Thousands of moments
converge in an uproar.
That which is washed away,
I choose to forget,
is but a tiny speck.
Each touch, every fleck
of your fingers, your tongue,
has left on me,
your stamp,