Paper-Mache Mars

Let us make animals and stars,
Just me and you
Let us travel together to Mars,
On a rocket made out of paper and glue
Just me and you

Then we can follow the Equator

In the silence of Space
And worry about words later
So I can watch your face,
Light up against the ancient stars
As we travel to our own, Paper-Mache Mars.



[new spoken word poem, it changes a lot when I speak it]

I watch videos of Kate Tempest, my inspiration to make this,
when I feel down I write and I rhyme because every time the season’s change, the reasons why you left leave me feeling strange they twist and turn in my gut, but,
I’m fed up
of seeing people lose themselves
of people disagreeing with themselves
because cupid’s arrow fell short
and again
instead of this being the typical-tale of a woman’s snapped heart-strings that made her lose her head
let us listen to how a broken male sings, instead
this is a poem for the men who get lost at sea, who aren’t sure what they are supposed to be,
because they gave up freedom because their cerebrum couldn’t control itself around a creature,
a teacher of light. A woman, who won the fight, a woman who has blinded their sight.

People talk of the emotions of a female when a relationship fails, how she constantly wails alone in her room, forgetting the details of how a man can hurt too, how a man can cry too, how a man has to throw away his feelings because society says they aren’t true.

his mind wonders back to when her green eyes held no disguise and she verbalised how she felt, how her naked body used to melt
at his touch, but
her heart is now hollow and she can hardly swallow
the panic, she feels sick
because she is lost in herself.
smoking damaging her health,
drinking destroying her mental health,
she doesn’t need anyone else
she just needs herself, back.

meanwhile the broken heart
turns into an insomniac, trying to be an amnesiac because he hurts. he doesn’t want to remember
that he had to surrender
how he used to defend her, when she abused drugs,
when she amused thugs in smoking areas of bars
how he used to hug her against night-terrors, even in her errors when she smelt of cigars,
and how she said she’d never leave
that she couldn’t believe
that they hadn’t met before,

but now his heart lies still
on the sea floor, as he just can’t seem to ignore
that she’s gone.


He lies alone in his room, he tries to soothe the cyclone that is soon, his chest is made of broken glass as her being somehow manages to harass
him, still. He lights a cigarette and tokes it, but then chokes on it as she opens the door.

He had wanted nothing more
than to see her, to see those green eyes that can both terrify and purify him.
he is shocked
as he expected to be mocked, but
he no longer can see her beautiful bright eyes he sees trouble, a lost angel
her heart is now hollow and she can hardly swallow
the panic, she feels sick,
because she is lost in herself.
She doesn’t need anyone else
she needs herself

they both need an embrace,
so they can face the dark corners of this world,
no longer be the mourners of this world,
because love feels real
when one realises that love can heal
and stomach aches
as it can eliminate
the hate that is also present on this earth.
A single hug
allows the re-birth of the man’s soul
as he can start to control
the energy that stole
the sparkle in his eye,
a woman;
a creature of light,
that had also lost the fight.

So now they lie together,  as the weather changes from the sunset of a storm to a sunrise that is warm.
because they were both warned of the drugs on the streets, but never the ones with beautiful eyes and a heartbeat.

a photograph

there are two pairs of green eyes
staring at me,
one pair of bodies twisted
like tree branches,
a misted memory
that I covered in clouds
of smoke
from my own lips,
but a cold sea breeze
has seized
me –
and now the smoke only stings my eyes
and causes tears
to water my poetry,
one of my fears have come true,
despite everything
I thought I outgrew you,
but in truth
we were two saplings that needed
each other’s petals,
to map out our hearts
and to soothe our heads,
now I am left with
a body full of sand
a weakened hand
and unable to stand,

holding a photograph.

bruised leaf

knotted rope wound around her hips
Morphing into ivy vines,
sewing shut her rose-tinted lips
Her brain fusing into another’s mind,
The plants tighten their grip
leaving grass-stained handprints,
stamped into her bark.
leaving hints
of overgrown moss on old windowsills
that were swept off by your wings
and replaced with daffodils
next to
two silver rings
wrapped in an endless knot,
by my ankle
the rivers feel warm,
but not refreshing
and the pressure is compressing
on my lungs
the birds warn me,
of the loss found buried in the compost

that is yet to come.


[written in devon a few months ago when driving from cornwall to bath]

You lie under warm cover
with stars exploding in your eyes,
enchanted by Her, the Mother,
heart hooked by a tangle of lies,
he greedily widens your green spheres
restless: Alive and worrying of past years.

shape my name with your lips
as your hands remember my hips,
thirty-two perfect pearls encased
around a pulse that I miss.
cheeks flush with the warmth of her breath
a tongue that can move mountains
until you have nothing left.

you lie under warm cover,
with stars exploding in your eyes
enchanted by Her, the Mother,
heart hooked by a tangle of lies
you lie awake at night like the flowing streams
Because your dancing,
in his dreams.


I roll over and hold him
and witness his eyes
with no disguise.

An ocean
captured in a bottle.
A little lost sailor at sea
Curse the cruise ship that sails,
across the blank horizons
The ship has fell

_ a Lillie blooms on the hillside but with a breath
she slips into the boundless

gin brain

polarise my membrane
I can’t complai—-n
sensitise my






via an action potential

axon membrane depolarises membrane
or my brain?

NA+ and Cl-

that name
I can remember that name,
like a science equation
an invasion of sensation
on the
of my tongue.


wooded wanderer so willing to wander through the woods, brown bark blooming with bountiful beds of moss, vermillion green luscious and unseen to those who do not wish to wander as freely as the wooded wanderer wandering through the woods.



‘I’ll have one IPA’ I say,
‘Have a sip first, love’ he replies
with a blush of red, I obey
and my happiness multiplies,
judging me, he classifies
and magnifies the fact I am a girl,
who likes beer, a simple blonde-curl.
as the sweet nectar touches my lips
whilst my hands fall to my hips.
‘I’ll have two IPAs’ I say,
but the barman with a frown shouts,
‘But Madame, it’s only a Tuesday?
Are you sure you should be drinking on a weekday?’
The fact that he doubts,
Myself and my whereabouts
With his silly, little and sexist pout,
‘Well then’ I say,
‘ll have ten stouts!
‘one IPA, and please,
pour them right away!’

He stands shocked at the sight
Of a little lady,
Building up her appetite
Holding her own might, he can’t disagree
Absorbing the light golden
Liquid lifted by bubbles, oh bumblebee
Me, wait, I’ll ask, another beer or ten,
‘Sorry for your troubles,
I’ll just have one IPA’ I say
Then I’ll certainly be on my way.

And she dances out of the pub door,
Asking for nothing more
Then the bubbles in her heart on this day.

atropa belladonna

dancing down to the end of your garden, an unusual plant
grows by your toes. cautious but curious
you notice the small and maybe injurious berries that
make you smile, as they ripen in style, dilating your pupils
as you commit to the berry and it’s sweetness,
but you were unwary of the deepness
and the side-effects in the complex
of the atropa belladonna berries.

the bells of the belladonna swing and ring in the sunlight
as the bell blooms into bountiful, beautiful berries that
a poison

bitter to the tongue
and destroyer of the young love
that you so thought you found,
growing rapidly out of the ground.


the infusion of confusion and exclusion
as the juice bursts and runs off of your lips
blood red
mudded mind
wilted head,
yet still intertwined

atropa belladonna has captured your brain
and will make you go insane
because you’ll never, ever,
be able to forget that name.