lemons and sunflowers
knees shine chocolate bronze;
lost but not lost in deep connections
because intimacy is where we throng.
to be in longing
you are that for which you long –
i just want to give love and be loved
unconditionally, without games
and fucking barriers
i just want us all to belong.

tigers eye

keep spinning your plates
look out for the signs,
you don’t always know
where you’re headed
but you do know what’s right.
in your little canoe
paddling passionately
for a collective life –
streams that work and play
outside the systems
the real kind of life;
weaving networks of heart
like an apple peel
uncurling secrets
that have always been inside –
because it is possible
to create queendoms where
all hearts can strive.
spaces for healing
where passion fountains
shoot upwards, ungaslighted
into the sky – old n new lap
and everyones sharin everyones caring
learning high on this new sort of
calmness but fight.
patience blended with animalisity,
instinct, waiting,
but moving
for that slice in the sky,
that only
fire can find.
keep yours burning
dont give up your
tigers eye.

peeling back the rose

we’re all 
peeling back the rose
returning home
and alone,
the petals
are dancing
with water droplets
as they fall.
fall to catch each other 
to help another
lost soul – 
each on our path
to discovery as we 
blip in and out
of worlds.
in the lulls
and tides
and cycles,
no one here
is really alone.
is it time

holding space

On our way to another world
london, this holding place –
where cultures collide and
magic shows itself
through simple connections.
among us there is no ‘strange’.
I wonder about the different universes
where demigods and tigers roam across space.
there must be so much more
to what we know (peace in the wonder?)
and within it, we’re all just trying
to find our base.
I look at the sky and i see twin rainbows –
the setting summer sun pulses
if you stare in its face;
a hot white globe starts spilling out colours,
violet visions and dragonfruit pinks
begin to pulsate.
the edges start to darken
pressing itself up to reveal a porthole
and i have to look away.
Can anyone else see this?

We wait.


i want to burst
like a tomato
when you bite in and
out shoot the seeds.
all colours
reds browns and greens.
they glisten with a
secret sustenence
knowing what humans need:
warm loving thats
ready to jumble
guard down, wearing its feel.
powerful little buttons,
dont underestimate
their desire to mean.
blisters of sunshine
simple messy
and rumbling,
reminding us
to keep keen.

the humble bumble bee i didnt save

the humble bumble
bee i didnt save,
crawling across the floor
of the tube carriage
yellow stripes gone,
tracing flickers of
the last light,
so far away
from his honeycomb kingdom
where the beauty of this world
is always humming telling us to
fucking wake up
and change;
duty loving _
alchemising flower to flower
with his friend,
feeling the sunlight nourish
and bend.
now, trapped
in this underground,
terrifying strange –
what must he be thinking??
is he frightened?
Waiting for the light at the
end of the tunnel
like us, another covid-coined phrase.
it broke my heart but
i didnt scoop him up
why did i save?
an old lady told me
last week
we are currently in the black//iron age.
surely there has to be a way out
leaning, together
to fight for the
Golden Age?

superblood moon

Super Blood Moon, Clusters. Pacing. Sky heavy weather teasing fire coming so much frantic mixed with supression in the air like something (more) big is coming. feeling the stirrings little bit scary not toget swept spesh in a city when we allpick up eachothers rise, everyone flocking out for Bank Hol big game, tubes busy again tension, frustrations bubbling just want to RIP this fucking mask of and dive. “grounded unicorn” (@t_flourishinggoddess) – but, you can have magic and still be weighted; like those clusters of rebellion, flowers, starlight, piping imagination on the curves and lines around our world (keno levo) toguide – little pockets of human, communities connecting, keeping us from flinging too high. “gather the inner soldier in your heart, ready to cannon fire system blast” but dont forget to look inside. dont turn away from what your bludpulse is telling you, away from the noise.

Daffodil Soldier

realise was crying
on the train, let slip
into frequencies too high
you just have to shut out the world
to not loose your stance
behind mask,
whilst moving.

canter in your power,
power when relaxed
but you can’t just keep going
in these bursts, of fierce –
passion, hot tears
that you want to feed into
put form to,
new and old ideas.

spreading out like butter
but i want to soak the toast
not skim it
make patterns on the burnt bits
that give life to things.

“you fall in love too easily”
young soul
actually no
its old,
is that a bad thing?

fortune cookie says:
keep listening.