MID SEPT 2024 +

Recent projects / Mythology / Metaphysics

CONTEMPT FOR THE ARTIST

In another life
I’d have two pets
Content with a 9-5
The conventional beauty
So softly spoken
Maybe then
I would be enough 

Instead I find myself
Drawing blood for pigment
For a large stretch of silk
Setting moulds for a field of apples  
Wearing both crowns
And two names ready
In a house which is not my home

ANOTHER FORTY DAYS AND FORTY NIGHTS

Everything and nothing all at once. And here is the apple tree ripe from your lips, bearing fruit again, like each corner of the earth was walked for forty days and forty more nights, and all rivers were swam through, two or three too many times. I do not understand the purpose or the rhythm nor reason to why we meet all other persons, but I must, I must, go into the void, walk the distance, enter the forest, see night as day and my hell which shows me heaven. This is the making of queens and we are more than Lilith. We are Goddesses of this realm called Earth.

A SECOND BODY IN A SECOND GARDEN

It will feel like a shattering of the Earth
A hollow centre
We will question everyone before us
Who told us the core was made of molten metal
When all now remains soot and smoke
This is a different world
Another Earth
Far from anything we knew before
As though we took our own hands to the heart
And excavated the land under our feet
All the while our claws remained clean
And now, the heart feels like it floats between seas
While our hands figure how to cradle the mass
This is a new world
With new oxygen
I do not want the rest of us to burn

A SEVENTH AGE

I leave the depths every seven days
for seven days of sun and sulphur
for softness and sweetness.
To feel like a cloud
Vanish up up up up into the air
Where I can’t be reached
Because everyone’s staring at the sun
No eyes near the clouds
Heavy with vapour
This is rest from the fire
I hold the book to my chest
And forehead to the ground
Every sound rattles every bone
In this saltless body
I dream of things I wished for
I take it as a delivery
A completion
As these seven days depart
The Earth feels hotter than the sun
And dreams are not a thing