As buxom, nectar-pregnant grapes rupturing beneath molars My ovaries spitting out infinitesimal pellets, Soaring Ova like mascerated melon seeds. Barely-audible sonic booms splinter hips, A ping-pong match Sharp-shooting in my pelvis, Fallopian tubes twist like strands of hair Doing the Jive around my Index finger.
06:25 The headboard is flushed celestial with gold; Strokes of molten Sun on the wall Wake up weary woodchip.
Strange mix, lyrical contortion of Beaded blossom and blinking infant leaves, Ingenuous, green, Roused reluctant from downy slumber; Shafts of wheat mingled, proud with tender sprouted sprigs. Subdued, harvest light Muted ginger-orangeade, A tall herbal arrangement.
In a blink: I closed my eyes to a world of grey and awoke, open to scenes flecked in green, Like a latent flood, slow-soaked and rising through moss, The colour returned. Negative film cells etched with fine-line nib Pinprick viridity, stippled along wooden seams; Sun-stroked tapestry unfurling before me, The renaissance The Spring. Written… Continue reading “Enfin, Le Printemps.”
"Hello, my name is Ciona and I am a writer", I say in the manner of a support group introduction. It has been a while since I have posted anything on here that isn't poetry: there are a number of pieces I want to write and share, but I am taking my time with putting… Continue reading A Creator’s Conundrum- ‘Previously Unpublished’.
Found: Knock-off of a James Joyce classic. Useless. Written on Wednesday, the 11th of April, 2018; a day that feels like the day we travelled to Dublin.
Don't you just love the word 'albóndigas'? It's so much fun to say. Like tumbling over a chair, or rolling, divaricating over little boulders, Tiny, meaty ones Slathered in rich, tomato sauce.
A non-exhaustive, incomprehensive lifetime list of my sensory world; I will continue to add to it. Pears; Vintage 1950s and 1960s holiday cards; Vintage Moon and star images; Sparkling water; Old American satin sports jackets (baseball, football, basketball, roller derby, cheerleading etc); Velvet clothing; Felt ornaments; Iona and Duckie in 'Pretty in Pink'- their characters… Continue reading Things I Love.
A night so dark, even the heights of trees are blacked-out. My eyes, hollow sockets sucked sore for a vacuum scene.
I turned on my phone today Deciding that I wouldn't, but I did it anyway. For writing up poems, I'm glad I did But, by and large, it's a mistake.