The Artist’s Daughter

These are my grandmother’s words
I find myself searching for the hero inside me
However I can only address the dying
I colour in the poverty of broken crayons
Eyes immediately open I haven’t had the bravery
To close my eyes at the world and walk blindly
I have no moral compass no sense for the soul

These are my mother’s words in her time of darkness
I’m not a hero I am a solitary daughter
Leave me to paint to draw to place chalk on walls I carved up the earth to bend it to my will
I stare deeply into world as if it were a diamond
I am my moral compass and my convictions become me

I find that I am at peace searching for you
And here I am I’ll come to be a dying hero
With my colouring box I’m colouring the world
One eye closed as I shut up and I keep walking
And everything will come to an end
And yet I stand by my convictions
I find I’m still finding reasons to believe


100 years

A hundred years of pity
It’s the end of all feeling
You’re seeing illusions of angels and demons
Every time you leave the mirror

You see the tiger walk the city at night
She lines the woman’s back that you mark with love in the back of a motel
Where you swore you saw God
Or was it you swore you were god

I remember how the you hungered
Sun drops falling from your eyes
The way they stung

Give yourself to everyone
So you’re never alone
Hungry human god

I carry your kisses
Like scars after crucifixion
But you are and you’re not a melody
A humming I’d pay a 100 years to hear

How many times must I fold my eyes with tears
But we’re just children who want children
Asking ourselves if we’ll ever see snow

I scream the chorus of your life
Again and again and again
A hundred times over

But you don’t bleed you’re a Big god
You don’t lie unless you’re dying
Dying once again in heaven in hell in a motel


Every thing stays

The tide pulls in the fragments of my shipwrecked mind wallowing in depths are my breaths

My mother use to sing to me
She didn’t know I dreamt of the future and it scared me

I remember the man who raised me
He was a wizard who lost his mind

My mind is a memory box
A glass maze I’ve written off as fragile
Perturbed by the past it halos in dark space as music celestial sound and I know I’m dreaming

I write about my childhood
I put to record my memory
I fly in the night in the day
An immortal symbol of inhumanity

But I was not always like this
It’s spring again and the yard is full of tiny flowers you use to call them weeds and you killed them all

But the stakes are the stake
And everything stays
Everything dies and begins again in a new life
Forever changing

I believed in magic

When I was little( I believed in magic)
I believed in (the infinite possibilities of) life
Nature and (her)snow carving out toy in flakes
My life (as beautiful as the paintings) of still lives
That hung in my mother’s studio

Her lines were defined and defiant
However (they were beautiful)
Each one (the only thing soft and uncertain)

Was me I was the shell she receded into like a snail
Her cocoon, teaching me was another opportunity to begin her life again

Artists from around the world called me either her muse or une partie d’elle -a part of her

I would go along to shows with her and
Fiercely hold her hand as if we could not be parted

We (co-existed )as one
No one could share our world
And to be (another ) human
Was to be (my mother and) me



You’re a lover you’re a leaver
Bless the sun when the floor falls beneath us
Light my love like a moth to the flame
It comes down like rain
It burns up like pyrotechnics
Illuminating the sky like the Fourth of July
My metamorphosis comes with time
Another Earth another life
Kiss the sun or at least the third rock from it
You see you’re like an open bracket like this:
( And I don’t know where you end or begin
But you’re so infinite you feel like what I imagine heaven tastes like and the existential
crimes of gaia making you is your silver stars on the flag you march with to freedom is it so you were there when great genius was birthed when the first chord was struck and I can hear it still…you’re beyond me you’re above me you’re alive inside be ricocheting and reverberating like the atoms I am can I even exist with out you?) No you see I cannot outside of your brackets I’m just a cosmic whisper to the universe


Blue Banisters

You can’t have it all
But when I grow up
I’m going to name my kid Heaven
Because I’ll need a little heaven
When all I face is hell

You can’t have it all
But I’ll paint murals and banisters blue
So it’ll make sense that I’m sad when I look at you

Yes I know I can’t have it all
sweet and real and innocent

I’ll have to look twice at the colours
Of a million lovers who won’t remember my name

But you see I try just like my mother
I dye my eyes in water colours
I coddle my dreams until they’re smothered
I’m canon fodder for the new age lovers

I put on rosemary glasses to cure perception
Of the candid lies and inconceivable deception

That’s life, making a getaway
With my childhood…
That’s life taking me up like a fire on the lips like someone worthwhile to kiss

But even I must die, memento mori
You can’t have it all
Death whispers into the ears of a liar
To the ears of life


Meet the universe for me

Darling you are a sacrifice to the universe
Your life is a sacrifice
Like the birth of a star
The cancer streamed through your body
First there was nothing
Then God said let there be light
And you fell that one morning
And the day was black a void of nothingness
A black hole of treatments and regiments
Then God said let us make man in our own image
And you cried when you started losing your hair
The nappy curls replaced with a smooth surface
And you gained and lost weight
I remember holding you big and small
And He said it is very good
I remember how cold you were in my arms
You belonged to the universe and I willed it for more time but you are the sacrifice so you are not mine
You can’t have it all
There were times when I believed I could
Then like Eden you were lost to me
And now I wait for the end
And you die



The shape of your love
Is the moon
But my mind is cynical
And the moon is harsh
Against my frail body
I hope to be bolder
I needed music
you gift music to people who are in trouble?
You see I have this mantra
It’s an act of reincarnation
Bad luck good luck
Just as meaningful to me as the sound of war
You gift music to people who are in trouble
I often think of this during bedtime
As I lay under the covers
To fight off the reality that
No one believes in love anymore
Gone is the golden age of the New Romantics
And when the Lord returns will He find any left


The gods we can touch

I picture myself flying
Out of the intricate womb of the universe
Face to face with God
Face to face with the Solar System

They look and feel the same
Endless and titanic
I’m just a freckle on God’s face

Then there’s Earth mother of all things living
The flowing waters are crystal shards of liquid
But then there’s you
The face of God and Solar System I can hold in my hands
I ate the forbidden fruit from your fingers
Soft like the wings of angels

Maybe you’re not supposed to eat the wings of angels
Maybe you’re not meant to savour the taste of seeing like God
But I did. It felt like the galaxy again
Endless space the clearest focus
I saw my atoms before I saw my skin then my naked body
And the realisation of seeing my body felt like spring everything was open and new functioning and blossoming
The last time I saw the face of God was
After we’d been kicked out of Eden
The next time was when you gave birth
I saw what it meant to be created
I felt again like a freckle on the upturned face of God


Beautiful crazy

Something in your eyes causes my heart to ache
I see you fighting trying to stay longer
Are you tired can you make the last stretch

I see how difficult it is for you to breathe
I know you’re trying to find it
Even if it’s not today

You look worn and beaten by the world
You’re just waiting to be cut loose
I see the difficulty every time you look up

You can’t be contained you don’t retain warmth
You’re cold you’re so cold
I hold on to you for dear life
Trying to fight a losing battle

Your laboured breaths
Are like a chorus of angels
Waiting to ascend to heaven
But you always assured me:
“I’m not knocking on heaven’s doors yet.”

You’re made of the earth and one day you’ll return
And day by day I see you walking closer
Being lead slowly up heaven’s stairs