Poems from Amara George Parker

always her

she leaves her hair on the pillow

like tangles of sunset cobwebs


to snare my thoughts

throughout the day


in them, I will be wrapped

and helpless

like a near-dead fly


in a prison of the softest thread

unable to pick myself free



waiting for her return.

Passive Relations

he was like a giant slab that a god had once thrown from the mountaintop,

sunk into the earth under his own weight

aligned with gravity.

and there he laid, cheek pressed into the dirt, waiting for feet to stand in front of his

weather-pounded face

and pass a few words

or strew some crumbs

that his big, long tongue might loll on to

and manage to get stuck on its furred surface…

drag them back in.

the tree that clung to the crags above him,

all thick, wiry root

and hard sinews,

was his ever-constant sentinel,

either dropping idle tears

or watching with impassive indifference

as the sun baked his face to cracks.

occasionally, and with sun-blessed consent,

she’d shelter his face with the long fans of her fingers,

his cheek swollen with silent thanks around her shade.


she’d send part of herself fluttering down to rest in his cheek,

a discarded comfort

he was never sure

was meant for him.

you can't fly on pity

they stroked me with feathers for an age

until the too-tender tickling became an agony

and I begged them

to shred the down from the shafts and

scratch me with the broken remains

they were sad

I had rejected their softness

the not-quite realness of themselves.

I tried to explain that I did not see my reflection in theirs

that their mirror was making me cry

tears streaking

the cheeks

of the ones they proclaimed to love

(but only as a way to unburden themselves

to heighten themselves)

I seek something to trust

a reflection

l o v e ?

may it seize me as it pelts,


into the sky

a carnivorous wind

ready to consume my little feathers

that no one will use to stroke

or tickle

but that I shall use

to fly

About Amara George Parker

Amara George Parker is a writer whose poetry has been published in literary magazines i n k s p a c e and She Who Knows. Her poetry and other writings have also appeared on the social media sites of literary publications and in scruffy notes thrust at people she loves. When she isn’t writing, she is most likely to be found either tangling her fingers into herbs and garden veg, pootling on the river, listening to something sultry or funk-ridden, or trying to fuse her over-elasticated body back together.


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