BOOKENDS; UNDER PARIS

  Caught is the consciousness in this constant climb, in this city of constrictions and its current that constricts and I can’t catch a breath. And the barricades have broken. Baffled by the beat my feet can’t follow and I am swallowed, sinking in this city of stone swamps and its concrete that compresses and […]

Read More…

BOOKENDS; WHEN CONSIDERING WHAT TO WEAR

  I was always looking to find the lighter side, the brighter side of your cold concrete cold corpses once carved into your concerns. You were papered over in such pomp and circumstance, such rigidity and reformation from centuries since removed but I found, once we pealed back each other’s layers that breath lingered behind […]

Read More…

BOOKENDS; WHEN THE BREATH COMES AFTER THE BREAK

    The lilt of the lavender that lingered for days, long after, by the leaning, before the louvre, the sweet consolation of candy floss cologne that stayed on the pillow, after you had parted. It is sometimes that simple; a scent to sail you back to me as if I never left the garden, […]

Read More…

BOOKENDS, coming soon

    Coming in November… Bookends A month of goodbyes Spending my final full month in Paris looking back in order to move on. Each day will be a new or revised poem and, of course, some photographs of this city that I’ve been connected to since I was 22 and will soon leave at […]

Read More…

WE WERE NOT DESIGNED TO SELF -DESTRUCT

  Fans open like a chest catching air, clouds sweep the mountain like a bellow baying, colour is just a caress away from grey, a breath can be unbearable if the body is breaking, a cloud is a cup of rain not fully considered. We climb over mountains to where the air is lighter and […]

Read More…

TO LEARN TO TRUST WITHOUT TURNING

  Time swims out on a tide I wish I could capture forever on a canvas of comfort, I drop my shirt and turn, like Orpheus, and lose hold, sands slide over skin and seaweed slivers snakelike along this shore once so unsure; rough rocks recall all the lava once eliminated. I stand in all […]

Read More…

COLOUR DANCES LIKE A FLAME OVER CONCRETE

  Colours catch fire over concrete, catch life, catch the laughter that will not linger for as long as this concrete. Measure moments not in length but in weight, weight, don’t wait to catch life; it is cold to be concrete and watch the flames flicker out, to be caressed but never considered consumable. We […]

Read More…