Archive for the poetry Category

Your Voice is a Caress Most Definite

Posted in Love letters, poetry with tags , on October 3, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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Your voice is a caress most definite

On velvet footfalls your words descend

The vertiginous staircase within my head

To take up mysterious residence Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in poetry, Reading, Real Men, Uncategorized with tags , , on September 24, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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4.

‘Wrapping my coat around me like my own sweet shadow, I unscrewed the bottle of pills and began taking them swiftly, between gulps of water, one by one by one.

At first nothing happened, but as I approached the bottom of the bottle, red and blue lights began to flash before my eyes. The bottle slid from my fingers and I lay down.  

The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life. Then, at the rim of the vision, it gathered itself, and in one sweeping tide, rushed me to sleep.’

p.163 Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in poetry, Reading, Real Men with tags , , , , , , on September 13, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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2.

“A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.”

– The Bell Jar Page 90.

Simone De Beauvoir writes in The Second Sex that because men are encouraged to fight, they come to trust themselves and their ability to grapple with the world and its challenges. Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in poetry, Reading, Real Men with tags , , , , on September 3, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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1.

‘There’s two acts of creation at work in the novel: the writer’s, and the reader’s.’

– Rodney Hall.

Some books, you read them and they go right through you like a glass of water. Other books seem to take up residence and become a part of who you are, like marrow, or muscle fibre.

I recently read Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar for the second time.

Continue reading

Twisted Valentine

Posted in Love letters, poetry with tags , , , , on February 14, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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Tattoos and piercings lodged in the weave of her becoming

A pale flame that undulates from my hips towards the ceiling

She feels like mine but is held within the darkness’ grip

Its heavy fingers printed in the slats between her ribs Continue reading

You Rang Me Like A Bell

Posted in Love letters, poetry with tags , on January 22, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle
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You rang me like a bell.

I lie on my back with the night pressed against my face

And the images resonate one after another –

Lying propped on your elbow in the eddies of the sheets

Looking at your bare ass as you’re bent over packing your suitcase

Prowling the footpath beside me with high-heeled precision

Reaching up inside you toward the depths of where you dream

Continue reading

Sara’s Geometry

Posted in poetry with tags , on April 26, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle

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She comes among us

where we are marooned on mats

She passes through the ocean of whiteness

dressed in olive and black Continue reading

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