Now I think I’d like
To do something different
Now that I’ve ripped out my heart
And presented it to you on a dinner plate
Now that I’ve stuck out my neck
And left it stripped naked as
A discarded dancing pole
Now that I’ve left my fears flapping
Like so many ragged prayers
Now that I’ve strewn my desires
At your feet like bruised rose petals
Now that my darkest self
is common tattle
I think I’d like to try
Something more personal
exiles child
Poems
exiles child 
Great reading. I’m spending my time in Europe and South Africa with my camera these days, and came across your poetry. Interesting how poetry and the lens can intertwine. I photograph what I feel, not what I see. The world isn’t so big after all…
Thank you. No, the world is a tiny wee thing, isn’t it? It only seems big when you’re not paying attention.
It sure isn’t. Your poetry is very moving. I shall enjoy it during my journey, and I have Internet, of course.. Keep up the great work!
Try relaxing!
No can do, yo. Have yet to unlax.