Penfold

“I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. The subject I want to know better.” ― Frida Kahlo

https://www.fridakahlo.org/self-portrait-in-a-velvet-dress.jsp

171

Writings

Followers

Following

Penfold

“I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. The subject I want to know better.” ― Frida Kahlo

https://www.fridakahlo.org/self-portrait-in-a-velvet-dress.jsp

171

Writings

Followers

Following

Arch

Penfold

1 min read

I do belong to you, she said.

Her hands slipping clay,

Brow furrowed

Instead.

Each carve through her fingers.

He watched and dismayed,

Bespoke yet unreal

Virtuosity.

The smell of earth, ware, and fire.

Revolving on a wheel,

It’s art; It’s desire

Speaking.

The lie lay like a baking pot

Between hearth and iron

She wasn’t his at all,

Lion.

—-

“If this is not a self-portrait it is because when ...

Poetry

Romance

Do You?

Penfold

1 min read

What did you do?

Laid it bare on the table

One thought gone

The timing, a label.

And I paused -

What did you do?

It was noon though

Sky seemed so, so.

It creased into being

Like so many scars

What did you do?

Again, then I said -

I did it. I did do.

I had to - but did you?...

Poetry

Mystery

Shaking

Penfold

1 min read

Alone on a table is a salt cellar. The glass glints in the sunlight, just a little, light dancing captures in its folds, and a faint rainbow appears.

Each grain of salt is a dried out tear, a million or more closeted inside, lost by those who have realised time is short; time is lean.

Pick up that cellar and shake it, shake it clean, release the sadness of us all, release us from the fear we liv...

Poetry

Mystery

Time Fire

Penfold

1 min read

Don’t be scared. We don’t know what happens next.

We think of time as linear, as that is what we have been taught to do, but it’s no more or less true than other ways of constructing reality.

Take fire, when you think of it, what do you see? A tulip shaped flame, lifting upwards, its yellow, its orange, but you look closer, and then you see blue. Do you believe that this is true?

Without the pu...

Poetry

Fantasy

The Fly

Penfold

1 min read

What does grief sound like? To me it’s like a ticking, a wind-up clock, or water falling, crashing against the rocks. It’s the low noise, against your ears, a constant hum, the same as the feeling of being shut in this box.

I’m cold. My toes are numb and so still, I don’t think I can move them even if there was space to. An eerie sound raises my heartbeat up like a crescendo, is the buzz in my h...

Science fiction

Right Mind

Penfold

1 min read

In the lift

It’s up or down

Heaven or earth.

Not left nor right

Logic or magic?

A sideways shift

Haunts me to unease

Strings pulling.

Hydraulic machine

Man of metal.

And yet I want it

When it comes

That limbic call.

Beating hums

Heart on the brink.

_Which part should I follow? Chest in mouth or eyes to reason? Both offer meaning but neither one alone captures it, that feeling. Words, images, l...

Poetry

Mystery

Paraparticle

Penfold

1 min read

_I was dreaming about snowflakes last night. So rather clumsily fit this into the prompt! _

Like snow. Even on the hottest days

A fractal feeing, crystalline.

And in little drops

so tiny, but so unique.

Each thought bound through

in the perfect retreat.

Like the lens that watches

it wouldn’t ever let up.

I’d dream I could hold it,

my fingers in the nanosecond.

That molecule of mortar

...

Poetry

Mystery

Savoir faire

Penfold

1 min read

I found it clasped between the pages of Simone de Beauvoir, and there I was.

That time when I accidentally put my hand on yours, and we both laughed. You in delight, me in surprise. Your beautiful green eyes sought mine, but I looked down, coquettishly, I couldn’t look back at you.

It took us both unawares, that split second - but neither was unwanted.

I’d doodled a little dog on the napkin, i...

Romance

Stop Watch

Penfold

1 min read

When he’d say to me, ‘I’m not ready to die yet’, I’d just smile. Nervously - what can you say to that?

My mind would go to the water, I can picture myself standing there, still like a sheet of glass, shimmering a little in the sunlight.

With a pensive watching, I’d feel the wash of the breeze on my arms, a light tickling and repress the urge to laugh, or maybe to shudder.

The present hangs on ...

Mystery

It’s Going Off

Penfold

1 min read

Everyone always says you should know what you want. But what if you don’t?

“How can you not know” he asked, the acerbic incredulity in his voice was rising like mercury in a thermometer.

Moments like these she felt like the child she always had been. Confronted by the need to be responsible, she was left breathless - gasping for thin air.

Life felt like the party she had not been invited to. Bu...

Mystery