FANTASTIC FLUTTERINGS

  On dull days when the sun absconds from sky, when grey grinds gloom into gutters and mothers utter ‘stay inside’, children’s minds flutter to unfold like umbrellas opening; colours cascading over concrete clutter like candy to calm a calamity. In the midst of the mundane and the murky, inspiration catches on the canvas of […]

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COLOURS IN THOUGHT

  Colours flap in the wind, colours catch the feeling of freedom at daybreak like thoughts taking flight in dreams under blankets, mounding over molecules, making matter meaningful. Dawn’s dew delights in seeds now stirring under soil just as stars shine significance on a mind, on a pillow, at play. There is movement beyond the […]

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WILLING TO BE WONKA

  Up and through, through colour to brighter, better, perhaps. I’m next, she says, up and over, following underfoot the man with the hat who’s had enough. Off with hats, top hats and hard hats, happy heads float through colour, dissolve, he says, into columns of colour, preconceptions passing now, no longer cornered by constricting […]

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BLACK THREADS

  Worthy. Are we worthy? Are you? I am not worthy to receive you. I am not worthy. These are not the words of any wizard, of any wonder, of any wonderful god. Wonderful does not whip us with worthless. Wonderful does not teach worthless words. Worthy. I am not worthy… These are the words […]

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ORANGE COLOURED SKIRTS

  ‘And there can be days like this,’ and the boy smiled and sausages swam past him in shorts and shades and in the sky dogs with Madonna mikes flew over kittens in orange coloured skirts and Beyoncé in their boogie. ‘And there can be days like this,’ his mother said as she painted pictures […]

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SCARLET RISING

  Eat the storms, Mother said, boil these beds of bitter blackness until the dream rips through the rain and translucent turns to trust, even a diamond must ache in the darkness until compression can no longer compound its shine. Eat the storms, Mother said, slip the shivering skin out under shimmering sky until touch […]

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JOURNEYS, PART 18; THE BEAUTIFUL BRINY

— The moon is a diamond dream, a sweet shadow of midnight butterflies drunk on sleep into which we seep like the blood red sun beneath the blue blood sea and we are waves in bottles bobbing along on the beauty and the briny, too intoxicated to think of our time being temporary, too insignificant […]

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