In a Cold Iron Box

I found an old poem today which mentioned a cold iron box with a porcelain lock, and I really liked that image. It made me write this little poem.



In a cold iron box

With porcelain locks,

I kept my most terrible secret.

But time broke the locks,

And rust ate the box,

And now I don’t know where to keep it.


I could ask the bees

Or maybe the trees,

But the leaves would whisper to the wind.

And just like the trees,

Every one of the bees

Would tell, and by you I’d be skinned.



An Empty Speech Bubble


(Credit: alierturk on DeviantArt)

I made an empty speech bubble

And tried to fill it with stars, I found swimming in a night sky.

But it was only a reflection in still water, which had tricked my eye,

And I slipped on the smooth stones.

Drenched, I shivered, as the cold gnawed at my bones.

And I tried again to fill the bubble, this time with fish wrung from my hair.

But they died, gasping for air,

And my shadow rose up behind me and laughed at me,

And my silly notions of filling the emptiness. ‘Like piss in the sea,’

It told me. ‘But the sea is full of life,’

I thought, as I cut the shadow from my feet with a knife

And stuffed it in my bubble.



Do you still grue

For tomorrow or is it your yesterdays you rue

Or find intimidating? Don’t go through

All the dark times again. It’s a flu

Of the mind, ruminating. If you blew

Your nose more often and looked away from your shoe

You would see that the sky is blue

Right here, right now, coo coo ca choo

It’s true

And you already knew,

But I would still spew

These trivialities at you

Even if you withdrew

All the way to Timbuktu

Even on the loo

I will find you

To remind you

That when you were two

You wanted to be a kangaroo

When you grew

up. And you might say: ‘Screw

That. It was a stupid dream.’ But I dream too

The stupid dream that one day you

Will learn to be here,

In the now

With me.

A Christmas Rhyme

Illustration for Edgar Allan Poe's "The R...

Illustration for Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”. Accompanies the phrase “And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor/Shall be lifted–nevermore!” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Christmas made me late
But gave me inspiration for my update,
So as you can see this time,
I’m going to try to make it rhyme.

Some say a poem must paint a perfect picture,
Some say it is all about the structure,
Others say that a poem is not fine
Unless it has a proper rhyme.

The Raven was read aloud Christmas night,
Followed by a poem about love’s might.
Both poems were much longer than mine,
and still they did beautifully rhyme.

I have reached the fourth stanza
Of this rhyme extravaganza,
And I’m already having trouble
With making it rhyme.

I hope you all had a very happy Christmas!

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