45+ Hearts Afire

Dig them up

And dust them down,

The relics,

Hearts exhumed

From passion,

Buried deep.

Guard them well,

Protect them,

Arms surrounded,

Stolen once,


Ours birthed to keep

Flame still burning,


Burning brighter,

Hearts afire,


Growth anew,

Buried not,

No fear,

We’re here,

We’re stronger,



Holding true.



Through the Eyes of Love

I have a sister.

I have two actually.

But the one I will speak of is Veronica.

One year and nine months separate our life on this planet.

She is a cow, bitch, fecker, a bugger, a sod!

I cannot think of enough words to describe the blasphemous relationship that blesses my life every day.

No one I know tells it like it is.

No one I know knows me like she does.

No one I know loves me as she does.

No one.

She blesses me with curses and calls my life constantly into question.

She supports me in every part of who I am. And has been formative in creating who I am.

She is younger than me but has been my elder sister on every occasion when I have needed an older sis.

She makes me laugh like no one makes me laugh.

The two of us together sound like Macbeth’s three visionaries rolled into one, on speed.

I love her with every fibre of my soul.

And I know she loves me in the same way.

Nothing I could ever do would surprise her.

Nothing I could ever say would shock her.

But she shocks the fuck out of me day and daily.

Tonight I spent some glorious hours in her presence feeding on the soul of one who gives as the reason for her existence. I supped on humour and wisdom. I blessed the day my mum and dad bestowed the gift of her life on me.


(Right, bitch-face, cow, bugger of all buggeries, don’t get too glorified in my praise of you!)

Well, ok, enjoy.

I never tell you enough. I never know, from moment to moment, how you will surprise and delight my sensibilities.



When my sister tells me to ‘get to fuck that picture you posted off of WP and FB because you look like how you will twenty years from now’ I have to take notice.

Apparently, my perception of self is well-squiffed. I thought I looked ok. Fuck, I wasn’t going to post an ugly one.

According to sis, my personality, humour, every aspect of my soul was missing. In essence, the pic was not me.

It caught a plastic moment in time.

It spoke nothing of me.

When someone whose opinion holds as much sway as my own, tells me truths that must be known and observed through new eyes, I listen.

Incapable, it seems, of seeing myself as others see me, I am deleting my image until someone- Veronica- says I have captured my soul in an image.

For it is my soul I wish to convey here and anything that gives the lie to that will be obliterated, found wanting and must be dependent on the eyes of those who see me better than myself.

Through the eyes of love I know and have always understood that those who love me know me better than I know myself.

I love and bless those in my life who nourish and cherish me, who make me face truths, who question my perceptions.

And if any photo makes me look 20 years older than I am, I’m getting that right to fuck!