Thinking, writing, thinking about writing…


Two thumb toes curled, eight subalterns squished

retreat in shoes too tight, rules too rigid.

Brain we mangle, stunt all words

to grape in odd clusters ’round harboured thoughts.


Don’t frighten the horses!


Heart stripped to stumps and cords,

lumpen mass, still beating,

confined to a love no longer felt,

a marriage of minds no longer true.



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9 thoughts on “Pinched

  1. Sisyphus47 on said:

    Rather gloomy this is, my dear friend ~ how can we cheer you up? ~ smiles ;-)

  2. Marina Sofia – Such a stark description of feeling trapped and even imprisoned…

  3. Great analogies.

  4. An extraordinary final stanza here, Marina.

    • Thanks – I really appreciate praise when it comes from you, because I know you never say it just to be polite.

      • A lovely compliment, thank you Marina. I believe in genuine comments.

      • But must also say that sometimes I can do no more than ‘like’ posts [and sometimes not even that] due to outside factors filling my days, so just because I don’t comment doesn’t mean I don’t like it, just that my time is being used up elsewhere :)

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