Author Archives: chimerapoet

About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?


  It’s gloomy and grey outside and not raining but the sky looks like it wants to. And it probably would if I stepped outside without a raincoat. You’d think the sky wouldn’t have a mean streak or sense of … Continue reading

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Metamorph (or My Defense Against the Dark Arts #45)

  I only noticed it when it was already grown thick enough to make my usual clothes unwearable, uncomfortable. Disgusted and fascinated both, I ran an apprehensive hand across my midriff and found my shell was smooth, nut hard and … Continue reading

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  I hang limply, lumpily, without grace or charm of form, around your neck, and lurch in warning when your hand moves near. I am no mere reminder for you but a lifetime sentence.  And I,  the victim, must serve … Continue reading

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Millie Was Gray

  “Millie was gray.” “The two bitches was gold.” The doors shut and the outside light slid over the train like vaseline and nobody looked at anyone else but everyone saw everything… “Millie was gray. The two bitches was gold…” … Continue reading

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This Strange Place

  It’s a strange place,  that louring sky and expansive sand swept landscape  inside my head. Where no one sits and sings,  or bakes cakes, or watches leaves turn colors, or laughs. Where nothing ever changes and no one ever … Continue reading

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The Elephants Graveyard

It’s a new moon in the elephants graveyard, and the procession approaches with a thudding grace  felt underfoot, a ripple along the viscera. And the trees rise black and sharp against the pewter sky, and the bones lie piled in solemn spacings, all … Continue reading

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Some new friends for Mr Fray

#sendmeyourfaces  #friendsofmrfray     Mr Fray in artwork!   ‘Mr. Fray’ is available at Amazon the world over! and don’t forget to…  #sendmeyourfaces

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