A handful of stardust



21/11/2016 Three poems; Skin, Pearly whites, Inspiration. About identity, giving of self, and expression



It is skin,

just an organ

claiming the surface

of our identities,

like an explorer

sticking his flag

in my Terra Firma.

Skin, like a book cover,

turn the pages,

read the blurb,


you'll get an idea,

but probably the wrong one. 




Pearly whites


I will show you my teeth,

flash this smile,

proudly display these well-worn crow's feet.

Man, it's ok...

everything has a price,

even this smile, freely given,

and I pay it gladly

with this light in my eyes,

with my heart on my sleeve

and my soul shining,

polished by good will

and better humour.






This little blue butterfly

flits and fluts,

delicately dancing

on still air,

like a free runner,

bouncing off walls,

right foot step onto

left foot leap,

to reach out and 





My colours spill here.

I radiate blinding white,

I am my own sun

my own light with which to see.

I turn like a magician,

like a ringmaster,

can you see my top hat?

Did your eyes get lost

in the shiny red


of my interior?

Let them meet mine

and see that I

speak the truth.












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