A pale Iris sky


I breathe in the profound chill of seeing a lunar cycle behind your eyes.
The rise and fall of expectation hidden in the craters.
We used to bathe in Diana’s silvery light, but now our backdrop is sickly cerulean blue.
Each pulse of dilation seems to drink in the strength, leaving only disproportionate waning, in ever-diminishing orbits.
Where once the gravity of our entwined existence kept us giddily and circling, now it pulls us only to the ground.

I’m still searching in your eyes in hope of a new moon, but are you already seeking out something new?

© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author

more poems


You know those skies,
The ones that beg
For would-be lovers,
To brush lips.

The molten amber orb
of the sun,
Melting into the horizon.

Smears of shameless light
radiating through
a glorious mackerel swathe,

With all the pastel shades
blended artfully
before they caress the ground.

I still see those skies,
I can feel the tangible beauty,
fearlessly nudging me,
towards rapture.

Sand in the skies

I remember the heady feeling of being adored and then admiring in turn. The euphoric anticipation of throwing my arms out, with eyes closed and knowing I’d effortlessly catch something that held the form and texture of love. I remember contagious smiles, unspoken secrets and air that was electric with laughter. Maybe I was golden then, when my hair was thicker, my face fuller and not everything I touched turned to jade. Maybe I was Jupiter then, maybe I was Diana, maybe I was everything you wanted me to be. The roses have gone now though, and the sand is just running through my fingers. Those days are gone, and with it my invincibility.

did I somehow become you 
without realizing ?”~ tori amos, oysters

Does anyone really feel good enough?

It seems to me like I’ve landed in a competitive ocean and I’m not too strong a swimmer. I’m being tugged by familiar currents into a state of swirling incoherence. Things I had thought unshakeably solid, just melting and crumbling into the sea. Within that ocean the haunting question bubbles to the surface, over and over.
“Am I good enough?”
This inquisitive wordfish swims it’s way in great silvery shoals, circling me in search of the answer, but never satisfied, because only the affirmative shark can chase them away. All I can see are negative waves and ambiguous reefs, getting dizzy with the circular motions of these tides.

Metaphors seem only to ever pour out of me with reference to water, and I presume I am expressing a molten paraphrasis of writers much greater and more fluid than I.

Good enough for what?

It doesn’t matter what this specific occasion sparked the tsunami, it all boils down to one thing at the end of the day.

And that is love.

Am i good enough to be loved?

But, see that’s not quite the whole deal is it? It’s not just love, it’s unconditional love.


So religious guys who mostly stick to the rules get this from their God(s), but those pesky agnostics and atheists, see, they just keep on looking for it right here on planet earth, and from other people too! What a crazy bunch right? Yeah well don’t laugh too hard because when the time is up you might find out your God is a total A-hole, and you could have had major fun writing a blog about thinking for yourself and carving your own unique but fault-ridden way through life.

My therapist used to say that I was constantly striving for approval. Craving this unconditional love, but what I needed to learn was to give this to myself and not rely on others, who, being human, are intrinsically flawed and likely to let one down.

I’m trying, but some days I’m such an incorrigible dumbass that I’m really quite hard to love!

“oh now feel it comin’ back again
like a rollin’ thunder chasing the wind
forces pullin’ from the center of the earth again
I can feel it.”

Risk – can you really be alive without it?

What is life?

The time between birth and death where we have the chance to experience vitality and sentience

What is risk?

Exposure of someone or something to potential danger or harm

What is life without risk?

Life without risk is existing inside a protective shell, calculating every move and learning to fear anything new or strange, making every action and word with premeditated certainty for the safest outcome. Existence without risk is safe, repetitive and ritualistic, it means shutting yourself off from the the bad at the cost of the good. Trying to avoid risk at all cost means losing your gut feeling, losing a lot of your feeling because feeling is risky too.

So let me examine what is arguably perceived as the highest risk activity that I am involved in:

Look at this (albeit terrible quality) picture

me and casper (2)

It’s a still from a video of myself and Casper when I wanted to see the fit of his tack with me on board-  now I fully admit that my posture is poor, I was cold, tired, on the back of a 15’2 horse and I look like a michelin man wrapped in a duvet and yet I am smiling. Casper’s bridle needed some adjustments too – noseband to low, cheekpieces too long, browband too short, single jointed bit poorly tolerated and yet he was also good natured, bless him.

What you see here are risks and safety precautions. Of course in horse riding, as in all activities outside of a safety net there are risks, but we do our best to safeguard against needless danger. As you see I have a good hat, a body protector (hence michelin man look), warm clothing, flourescent tabbard and years of horse riding experience behind me. I also have my mobile phone in my pocket, enabled with GPS. I have test driven the old boy many many times and know that actually the little bugger needs a flash noseband if we canter as he gets over excited and he’s not very impressed with this…nevertheless, his slight grump is the price we pay for the ability to stop if needs be! a risk assessment of sorts was made and I even have insurance for if I DO have an accident. I understand the inbuilt risk  of horse riding, I have safeguarded as well as I feel necessary against accidents / danger. It still happens of course (broken wrist last year for example :/ ) but despite the risk, the danger, the consequences, there is nothing that can beat the feeling of a good blasting canter across an open field! except perhaps the feeling of clearing a show jump elegantly and skilfully 🙂 but I’ve lost that skill (hence impromptu tumble onto the school floor last time!) so cantering it is for me :).

My point is this: Doing something you love, despite the risks, can make life worth living. Taking steps outside of the safety net of constant controlled repetition is exhilarating, scary and, in my opinion, a far better definition of life than that merely stating existence / sentience. How people do you know that you would describe as vital, energetic, vivacious, lively? I’ll bet those people don’t spend their every hour stressing over the safest routes to take, the least risky thing to say, I’ll bet the don’t agonise over decisions afraid beyond all comprehension of making the wrong choice….

Life is for living, not wrapping in cotton wool. When I die, I don’t want to be praised for my ability to be safe and sensible, normal and controlled – I want to be remembered for my aspirations for an exciting, adventurous, unusual and satisfied existence.

Go out and do something you love. Go out and do something scary (I’m not talking bareback riding on a wild horse here…that’s just stupid!) Go out and feel yourself push through the barrier that you build for yourself or have built for you. Test the limits a little. You might be surprised!

PS. Im seriously considering a trip to Peru next year following this train of thought – certainly not a risk-free experience!


i am totally obsessed with this song at the moment


I am willing to forgive the improper plural of gladiolus too. Of course it should be gladioli…

On the way to California
See my sister Carolina
Looking out on South Dakota
At a field of gladiolas
Gonna sell it in the summer
leave behind the floods and winters
Letting go of what they suffered
Let it fall away like rain across the plains

From a payphone on a corner
Making plans for our departure
I could wish we’d rush right over
Looking back over my shoulder
Cold December weather
Not keeping us together
It’s New Years Eve forever
We’re flying down the turnpike in the night

Looking out to the horizon
Anyone could see the swelling of your heart
All the lights that shine before you
Looks so helpless, and so far to see

Someone’s always running faster
Towards the anchor that you need
You forget again and ask her
Why the light, it had to leave
An echo in a footstep, a whisper from a portrait
Shows us all the stars you see

Rare moments of bliss

Dreams, love, hope, happiness. When these fleeting things pass through your life be sure to take the time to let them settle on your soul, consider their weight and consistency and the sensation of them running through your very being. Let the dreams lap like soporific waves against your bare feet, let love leave a lingering scent, like your faavourite perfume on your thoughts and memories, let hope, spill like so much flickering candlelight across the canvas of your mind, let happiness rain down, drenching you in a shower of invisible glitter.

All in all, cherish these moments because they do not last forever, and everyone needs some brightness locked up somewhere for when the darkness descends.