Whisper

You know that gun

I say

When it is quiet

The one you think is a risk

It is a calculation

I whisper

To myself

An adventure

Bird man smiles

As if he hears

At the top of the hill

He knows

His pink t shirt

Does not hold off the cold

His adventure

Burning like ice

Onto his tall lean chest

Orange

Magpie feather

The world has to turned to rust

Since I've been away

The same but changed

I whisper

To myself

We will sit on pins and powder

And wait

This is temporary

We must not settle in

We must not

I tell Alice

As she sleeps

So tired

Curled around the little gun

We will wait

Until the feathers fall

And the sky turns blue

We will wait

Until the calculation fades from the chalk board

And we can reclaim our adventure

Again

whisper

smile

hold hands

orange

magpie feather

we are scared

we are scared

we are scared.

Swing

I hide the tea cup

In the wardrobe

The only place safe

In these rooms

Between which

I dangle neatly

Not on a cord

A spring

A coil

A rope

That does not come to rest

I string my prayer to the tree

It is tied with lilac ribbon

Soft and settled

It is a different place

He is softened like carved wood

Smooth

We can breathe

Open the wardrobe door

Alice skips and sings

Plays with pens

Colours

In

The powder rests neatly on my tongue

I let it stay there

No need to labour

It will dissolve when it is ready

When the picture is full

When the words are sent

When we let go of the rope

And swing.

status update

myself and alice are unable to throw down our words

j is being held in the bad room

alice is in her pocket

hoping we both don't shrink

missing you all and the world of words

x

Starch

I like to feel the cold ridge

Sharp in my fingers

Where the skin is cracking

Bleeding quietly on boraxed sheets

In some ways it is softer

Than the words he speaks

Than the noise outside the door

People marching in circles

Nowhere to go

No way to unlock

The doors contained by electric

Not keys

We tingle with the electricity that holds us in

Drowns us out

You can see it in the eyes

Through the gaps of missing teeth

We are apart from the world

Walking in circles in a world

Confined by electricity

Not keys

Keys would be too easy to turn

They may have a brown label

Turn me

Alice may skip through

We could sit and savour a potion

Thick strawberry powder and apple sauce

Electricity

Burns the fingers

Fries the soul

Keeps us awake

But not alive

We taste nothing

Feel everything

To leave we must say nothing

Shh

Let the electricity become words

I like to feel the cold ridge

Sharp in my fingers

Where the skin is cracking

Bleeding quietly

It is my world apart.

Dream

Three hours

I must be brisk

I must detach my head and forget that I am home

I am home I am home

But I m not allowed to stay

To curl under the red blanket

To feel warm

To feel who I am

The shape of j

Where is j

She can’t even hide any more

Like when misery was a game

Chasing black flowers

Counting stones

Levelling off powder

being j being j

I keep the name label in the empty tub

I will fill the tub again some how

I will cut away the name

Like I cut away the tag

Just another date

Another time

Another dose of nothing

For one moment I was

Now I am nothing

Filthy

Itching

Losing

Always fucking losing

When there is nothing left but loss

I leave Alice sleeping in the soft red

Her little shoes beside her bed

Her little head full of my dreams

Keeping them safe

Keeping them safe for me

She knows me

She knows me

And so I love her tenderly

The only dream I keep

Is her

Where I tumble home 

And hold her tight.  

Jam

The coat is cut

The boots are home

Waiting to turn soft

I sit and wait my turn

Turn and turn

I pick the walls of myself

Dismantle the walls of myself

rubble ash dust

We all fall down

One glorious moment

With Alice in my hand

Now this waiting is not curious

It irks me

Holds me

When I do not want to be held

Too many hands

Holding back rubble ash dust

Using ticker tape not hazard wire

All so futile really

my home my home my home

there really is no place like it

I don’t think the boots will take me there

They are too heavy

And not red

I play with the line

Fine line

End line

Keep that line alive

Little silver cross of metal

Alice in a jacket

Too tight for her to run

We have to sit

Like good girls

Wait our turn and turn and turn

Drip a little red

I am glad we did not trip

Waking

I am glad we did not trip

In the new boots

I do not remember the name they called

But me and Alice came back and back

To play in rubble ash and dust

How delightful it will be

To eat jam and powder for tea.

 alice came to visit..it is sunday..we thought we would put our coats on and scribble as we always do..perhaps we will fit just right with the word to come..if not..well..it's still good to go to the tea party.. j x

state of affairs

Hello

Just to let you know that Jae is saway from her writing desk for a while..

She is thinking of you..

And missing her scribbles..

hope to be back on board as soon as possible..

thankyouthankyoukindly

x