Your sweat smells different, More sour, When it’s laced with fear. Liquid terror running down In rivulets Sprung from droplets Profound and desperate To escape from your pores. Let’s bottle it all, While you shiver, And use it as warpaint. … Continue reading
Wouldn’t it be lovely if science prevailed Continue reading
A glimpse of your puckered face, says this soup isn’t to your taste. I boiled down the bones of my thoughts, But it only enriched, Fractured texts in gelatinous forms. Amorphous gobs, Tacky and corrosive. Gummy with … Continue reading
On a night of ferocious joy, You catch me, dangling feathered charms again along the bow. Your face contorts, Just please let Jupiter explain, Why I don’t dance. The sky is static now, Freezing my demeanor, Splaying out my panic. … Continue reading
Always looking down, With craned necks, To glimpse the moonlit surface. ~ Just a little drop, Of someone’s fear, Falls into every well. ~ A sympathetic breath, In the shadows Seeps into all the fractures. ~ Maybe just a mark, … Continue reading
Here is a pencil drawing of a kingfisher (Mother’s day gift that I’ll post soon!). I haven’t done many bird studies before and as you can see, I struggled with the background but overall I’m satisfied with the result for … Continue reading
On days where coefficients become imaginary numbers,
You suspect that deviation is becoming non-standard,
That integration won’t coordinate your thoughts,
And that darling Nernst was potentially a trifle fixated.
On Sundays you’re worried about regression,
That backwards sloping tide of linear thinking,
Denying the possibility of a many-tailed fish.
But are your aquatic fears myopic twice-over?
You can ask me just one more time about the errors our ways,
I’ll even fetch you a cup of tea,
But please don’t test me,
I’m significantly more numerically challenged than you know.
(c) Accidental Tentacles 2017
Shamans and debutantes await the procession. Red macrame and torn eiderdown Fleet, infusive where silver was lacking. Who will float away inside this parade? I tell the cellists to bolster their bridges, Somewhere the chorus are warming their throats, We wait … Continue reading
(c) Accidental Tentacles 2016 I know watercolour shouldn’t really be treated like acrylic but sometimes I think it (unlike myself) likes to branch out in style. I painted this from a photo of a great tit. I cannot find the … Continue reading