Thursday, 8 October 2009


Time, the universal housekeeper,
vacuums up every moment's precious dust.
When she is done with me I shall not be timeless,
I will be out of time.

Tuesday, 28 July 2009

What do they want from us?

When I grow up I want to be
the clip that holds your hair back
and when you ride your bike you won't go off track.

When I am grown I wish to be
the foam that rides upon the sea
fizzing with the joy of speed, loose and free.

When I am older I want to be
the raspberry juice that dribbles down your vampire face,
the tumbling drips your tongue will chase.

Why must they lasso my innards to a chair
and say, you'll make a good banker, now sit there?

American sentence

I fight most against that which I expect to be expected of me.

Manga girl

Breakably unbreakable with her marble eyes
fixed on the road ahead we know her lycra catsuit
is spraycanned to within an inch of her lycra life
hiding nothing except everything,
which is what she left on the bus
in the suitcase, behind the dartgun
wedged under skyhooks and rope.

She anchors earth to sky with heels so high
she looks down on us like a goddess
and wonders why us mortals
expect so much from her and yet
so little.

Sunday, 17 May 2009


I went to the beach.
It rained, so I left.
There are different types of wet
and being rained on is having your biscuit
licked by a slobbery dog
but the sea welcomes you in the warm tears
of her wide throbbing heart.

Saturday, 7 March 2009

finding self

What defines Self?
Girl, white, freckles, short,
this country, that thought?
The phase of the moon when we met?
The greatest fear
the smallest hope,
How many times a mosquito bit?

What is written on Twitter,
that must be it.

Saturday, 21 February 2009

It has to be said

You who choose to end your lives yourselves:

When you leave
you leave behind broken people
you take with you a piece of us.
We will stumble for the rest of our lives
trying to find that fragment
and always slightly long for death
to be there reunited.

It has to be said.

Monday, 9 February 2009

American sentence

ate will always demand something in return for Tall, Dark and Handsome.

Saturday, 7 February 2009

Not named

strange sweet sadness haunts me these Saturdays.

Time alone in my head.

American sentence

have lost something, and when I know what it is then I will not be.

Random memory

Me, alone in a tiny granny flat in Potchefstroom. Listening to the rain pounding the parched earth like the sky was crying for her torn-apart soul.

The smell is always like a new beginning.

Wednesday, 28 January 2009

Youare but youaren't
stayaway gohome
don't count don't care
who are youanyway?
where did itall begin?
how does it end?
Inbetween feeling solost
so fuckingtired.

Friday, 16 January 2009

American sentence

Am I even real, this shambles of a facade wearing thin with use?