Valentine’s Too Late

Two heart shaped balloons
Above their table

Starring ahead
Just so that they don’t


So tangible
My eyes are drawn to them
A couple?
Window Seat
One of the best in the restaurant

The kitschy cheerfulness
of the heart-shaped balloons
Is fighting a lost battle

Love was lost when?
There is not even positive regard
Body language closed off
As if they just survived a battle
And now the king forces the enemy warriors
To reconcile

Happy Valentine’s Day


How do they stay clean?

Born out of muddy soil
Breaking through half rotten leaves
Thrown away during autumn clearance
Half-composted reminders of summer past

Pelted by sleet, and hail, and rain
Trampled on by foxes and deer
Yes, both, in our garden
And yet

And yet
Snow white
Vibrant green
Not a speck of mud

Harbingers of spring
You say?

Harbingers of hope
I respond.

The power of life
Born out of cold and darkness
Brilliant white
The colour to hold them all
Symbol of light
Symbol of peace
Symbol of hope

A very fragile message

Iss: a rune of becoming

This is a mixed media art piece, the bear I found online but despite undertaking reverse image search could not find the actual artist who drew the bear šŸ˜¦

Echoes of the past
Vibrate in the snow
Little clouds of icy dust
Unsettled by sound
Iss: rune of rest and pause
Life happens underneath the ice
Underneath the blanket of snow it stirs
not yet ready to wake
not yet ready to move
not yet ready to grow


Pale grey slush
Generously dispensed from above
The mornings lighten

By the way
Who thought that first R made sense?

Ice-cold faces
Attacked by even icier, colder needles
Thrown full force
Against numb skin

By the way
Wasn’t there spring in the air?
Just yesterday?

Super-moon hung hidden
Behind thick clouds
This morning
Ɓrvakr and Alsviưr were too slow

By the way
Have you read the Edda yet?

What are the stories
That keep you going
During the dark times
In the midst of winter?


You called me tramp
Yet you were the one who cheated with three different guys

You called me psycho girlfriend
Yet you are the one who rambles incomprehensible abuse
Threatened to kill
Ended up in the back of the police car

You called me fucking lassie
Yet you have fallen so low you are not in a position to pass judgement
On anyone but yourself

You called me that woman
Yet you are that woman who lies, cheats, breaks into the house, steals money, head butts, bites, abuses

You called me bitch
Yet you are the one who barks at passing cars

You shout abuse
And when I called you out change it to psychological abuse
As if this doesn’t count

You have told me all your names
Now let me tell you mine:


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