Butterfly Kisses and Bee Sting Mind I wrote in 2013 and I self published and promoted the collection at the Imp in Merthyr. (Open mic nights – Noson Meic Agored. I was subsequently led to understand there were copyright issues with the cover image so I withdrew the original edition of the collection. I then went on to have Butterfly Kisses published with BBTS publishers.
With the revamped collection I launched Butterfly Kisses at the Fireside Cafe, Bargoed, where I ran an poetry open mic. Also read from Butterfly Kisses at the Hen and Chicks in Abergavenny. I have sold many copies of Butterfly Kisses. I am not sure how many on Amazon or other bookshops, I just do not chase these things up. Butterfly Kisses has been sold in UK, Spain, France and Canada.
The title Butterfly Kisses and Bee Sting Mind came to me in a dream and from there I began to write the 24 poems. The poems are mostly to do with manipulation of the mind and confusing sex with love. To allow someone to get inside your mind is truly exhilarating and wildly frightening at the same time. I lighten the tone of the collection with some poems on nature.
A few poems from my first collection “Butterfly Kisses and Bee Sting Mind”
Colours of Manipulation
I felt the love I had for you leave my very being
on this cold, bright blue sterile sky morning
Your love seeped out in hot salty tears
that came from a well of my broken heart.
It rose from my throat came out in gulps, sobs and sighs.
Your charismatic nature swept me far beyond sense and logic.
Your manipulation kissed my mind as I surrendered into you
and your many disguises.
I came to you gift wrapped in innocence and grace.
You unravelled me in put downs, spite and hate.
The core of my being has been bruised
for the animal in you attacked the inner child in me.
The love I felt for you has gone and I must move on.
To my journey back to me as I travel the path
of reflection and retrace my mistake
that led to the invite and the many colours I saw in you.
Contours
Mapped blue veins bleed out of the outer bounds heart
layer of continuous skin takes your breath,
follow the curves of inner crevasses of softness.
Walk the back bone shoulder high, up the neck
a shaped face with luscious mouth watering sights.
Rosebud breasted tips,
waist deep in the bellied mound
open gate formed at the hips.
Taut thighs, kneed shaped, shinned calves
feet planted on solid ground.
Fruitful fertile mind, a soul that soars
love need to find its own contours.
I enjoy performing contours from memory!
Blue-bell Memory
Dancing to natures tune
moving their pale lilac heads
liken to a tingling bell.
The heavy scented aroma invites
and entices you to possess.
I kneel down, pull the sticky stems
out of mother earth, they slide
into my hands, bunches of them
lay like a baby across my arms.
Their pretty heads tickle my downy hair
I hurry home with my gift of plenty
to give to my mam.
She will put them in a jam jar
that has been idle since blackberry picking in the
autumn.
I sniff the jar, the sweet fruity scent still lingers.
Now green stems stand with their purple heads
drooping in their sadness.
For they have been taken from
their habitat and put into mine.
Never allow anyone to walk through your mind with their dirty feet.
Poems and thoughts from the walking poet 