I sat at my grandmother’s piano and marvelled at its strength and beauty. 130 or so years is a pretty decent innings. My fingers tentatively stroked the keys, wondering if they had anything unique hiding behind their tips. To be read while listening to the accompanying track. arise, awaken the sing-song that wanders free like the magpie through the frosty crackling morning dew. tender … Continue reading Awaken the heart. A poem and a tune.
rewired? to rewire, or not to rewire, that is the question. neurones fire at will, never ceasing bar the short burst of quiet during the night watch. days sizzle with the electric eclectic eccentricity of a uniquely wired house; set to blaze throughout the day, hang the cost to body and soul. stop. embers low, the slow enchanting dancing trance that oozes over each wire, … Continue reading rewired?
I don’t know much about genre, or form; all I know are the colours I’ve worn: Metre, rhyme, rhythm and style awakening words like a song in the night. I thought I wrote songs, turns out I sing prose. Turns out all those sounds would eventually come ‘round. This new life that I’ve got? It’s one that I chose; carefully shrouded it finally arose. … Continue reading Unravel my skin
Little girl caged Squeezed between the cereal, orange juice and cob on the corn. The lettuce and loose beans bob along on top of miniature knees; healthy living front and centre. Potato chips, chocolate and cheese rolls cower at the end of tiny red Mary Janes, shrouded by the baby cage above, reality brewing. (c)2015 Miriam E. Miles. All rights reserved. Continue reading Trolley bound
Formulas work until you expose them to unpredictable elements. We follow the rules of the latest minimum hour work week, crossing every t and dotting every i, pushing the elements of our lives into the petri dish of exactitude. But for what? To what end does our formula serve us and to what end do we serve our formula? Have we simply replaced God with the … Continue reading Formulas
Products We study the fashion bloggers and The Real Housewives for inspiration, following KK’s guide book to booty like our lives depended on it. A work in progress that needs to be perfected. We nip. We tuck. We gulp down cleansers and visit gyms instead of chapels, working the treadmill like we’re being chased by a rapist. We crave the flat belly of youth because this … Continue reading Products
I am home but not alone in a house filled with people; the noise, deafening. Silence like a vacuum sucks me in. * (c)2016 Miriam E. Miles. All rights reserved. Continue reading The empty house