fly

by Mandy Gibson

she perches on the glassy surface naked

alabaster glisten

ochre sky reflection

satin strands of hair, face hidden

only her skin breathing low

she runs barefoot on sand

tide covering footsteps like lava

the blue/green/black stone of the cape calls her in

wet shining rock in a cry she rises

like spray to the surface, vaporises

disappears in the dark

her dress, caught on the breeze

lands alone

 

You can read more of Mandy's wonderful words here and you can also follow her in twitter here.

land

by Mandy Gibson

that more or less unguarded moment

storms and sunshine equal hope

that pauses ever on the slope

of whispering and croak

for fireworks and dragonflies

scatterfire haze-gold skies

the phoenix rises, fear disguised

in every word she wrote

feeling flat, unentertaining

an insipid lack of motivation

well aware that limp complaining

is little more than cloak

in the bang and the clatter

of life and dreams and twitter

sits a weary wet-winged butterfly

with a fucking sore throat

You can read more of Mandy's wonderful words here and you can also follow her in twitter here.

breathe

by Mandy Gibson

the first scent came in a crowd,

slipped past in a street crossing,

dragging away with a parent's cautious hand,

waking

spoke of far away.

the second scent, when it came

was dark and brooding, coffee and cigarettes,

weary eyes changing colour

in a new pair of glasses, waiting.

the third in an autumn sunshower,

tiny needles of icy water spinning onto skin from light,

all dark clouds and flowers,

warm hands and rainbow.

the final scent flowed and collided in the joy of reunion,

inhaled between sobs,

remembered from forever ago.

and then the first, again.

You can read more of Mandy's wonderful words here and you can also follow her in twitter here.

born

by Mandy Gibson

see it breathe


lingering dew pale morning barely stirring laughter follows 
trees that answer


scent of grass and pine


ragged running smoke, and wine, and precious scents before sense took hold

see it burn


lungs turning cells to fine white ash


fit to serve


blistering blue-white skin in a near-fatal sunrise


coloured red consumed as it slept


blowing away in an idle breath

see it drown

mist gathered humidity travelled


face muddling ice puddles

precious little snowflakes


hands held together


the still spot in the steam before the splash takes it away

see it burrow


soft black damp creature


clay between tiny fingers


blood returning shallow breath


layered in the moss


beyond all reckoning

watch it bind


metal skin to slip and cauterise


halt the march of turpentine


scrape the canvas clean and grant the muse its wicked way


in its own good time

 You can read more of Mandy's wonderful words here and you can also follow her in twitter here.