royness ( ' ' )

Rookie (04/12/86 / essex, england / carmathen, wales)

royness ( ' ' ) Poems

1. Lost Gods 10/17/2006
2. Villanelle (For Emily Dickinson) 1/2/2007
3. K 11/12/2007
4. Not Even A Flower 11/12/2007
5. Mute 11/12/2007
6. Butterfly 12/21/2007
7. (haiku) - Enigma 1/20/2008
8. (haiku) - Oil On Concrete 1/20/2008
9. Moving Skin 1/28/2008
10. We Separate 1/30/2008
11. Clouds 1/30/2008
12. Empty Room 2/26/2008
13. Angels And Demons 2/26/2008
14. Joyride 2/27/2008
15. Sculptress 3/6/2008
16. Description Of A Scene 3/7/2008
17. Dear Diary 4/18/2008
18. Taking Root 4/21/2008
19. Beggar's Belief 4/21/2008
20. Snails Awaken 8/28/2006
21. Drifting, Doubting 4/25/2008
22. Enigma 4/25/2008
23. A Moon, A Sadness 5/2/2008
24. (haiku) - Bum Deal 5/2/2008
25. Champagne Conversation 5/6/2008
26. Chicken 5/8/2008
27. For Those Who Have Passed Through The Fire... 5/8/2008
28. Butterflies And Oracles 3/1/2009
29. No One Is There (A Villanelle) 3/1/2009
30. Distance 11/8/2009
31. Dreams Of Falling 9/12/2006
32. (haiku) - Confession 10/18/2006
33. Child And The Aquarium, The 4/25/2008
34. Death Drops The Hourglass 2/26/2008
35. (haiku) - The Death Of Virginia Woolf 10/18/2006
36. La Mort Des Amants - Translation By Non-French Speaker 5/4/2008
37. Pets With No Bodies 5/6/2008
38. Snow Child, The 9/22/2006
39. Death Of A Scarecrow 8/28/2006
40. Iron In The Soul 8/28/2006

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Best Poem of royness ( ' ' )

Mosquito

She comes to me
in the early evening twilight
drawn by breath or scent -

with the merest of touches
she rests her fragile body upon me
pressing her eager mouth to my flesh

and delicately, with practised skill
she slides in her spiny needle
drawing the blood from a vein in my arm.

I watch as she drinks of me,
growing heavy and swollen –
I give myself willingly

and thus, I do not bleed
she leaves not a mark where she fed
softly withdrawing from me

as I, the great provider
offer up my body to the night -

feed, dear ...

Read the full of Mosquito

Passing

He comes home to find Grandma, still –
sitting amidst the papers and magazines,
the dirtied grey furniture,
the crumbling walls and curtains stained
with age,
the slow reek of tobacco smoke.

Her sunken eyes do not see him.
Her stunned brain wonders

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