gravitational wells
the thoughts I return to again and again
float in space
ride the currents
leave behind the obsessions
dance on daylight
fail
I return to you
looking for glitter
see the light
see the light
embrace the madness
and release
the Zen teachings on impermanence
my failures are not forever
today I am a cloud
one day rain
let the thoughts wash away
I see a footprint on the Moon
I see erosion
Micrometeorites
Time wins
Blast
Smile
Little waves across the universe
I am nobody
I wear a mask
Noh theatre?
Or naked and full of ghosts?
Blast, trying to be clever
Smile, little thoughts
Grief
I return
I fail
Voyager travelling out from the Sun
I sense you
But I am a creature of the Goldilocks zone
Earth is my warm, blue home
Gravity
yakiba
poetry from the tempered edge
Monday, July 13, 2026
Tuesday, June 2, 2026
Saturday, May 23, 2026
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Tuesday, May 5, 2026
I am the river.
I am the pebble, on the river bed.
I am the water.
I am the flow.
Change.
I am alive between the silences.
The silence before birth and after death.
Now the window is open and I listen
to the birds and the hissing radiator.
Traffic murmurs in the distance
(the flow)
seconds pass.
There is stillness.
There is birdsong.
By increments the day brightens towards sunrise.
I am the pebble.
I am the blood.
I am the platelet.
I am the herringbone sky.
Saturday, April 4, 2026
I have lain on the floor knowing I was beat
melting and relaxing into defeat,
the blue tiles absorbing my failure.
I found eventually that I was cold
and I picked myself up.
Winter
Spring
circles
the vernal equinox has passed
light grows and the plants in my window
bud and leaf
fern fronds uncurl
I have chilli seeds ready for planting
I have lain on the floor
on the blue suicide tiles
I have been silent
move slowly
heal
bud and leaf