Buckets of Love

I can tell you about the blue buckets I have in my bathroom.

They’re filled with love.

At night I wander the streets and sprinkle hearts on all things green.

A bucket here, a bucket there, you know what I mean.

But where do they come from?

I can’t share that information on my blog.

A Fragment Lost

A problem shared is a problem halved.

A heart opened is a form of love life carves.

A blessing on Sunday is like a blessing any other day.

A life that connects with yours forms a part of your destiny, I’d say.

A kiss under the glow of the full moon when it’s pink, is the perfect setting for new love, I think?

A dream so stunning it feels real enough to touch, is a dream worth chasing if it’s not too much to ask?

A corrupt mindset will emit waves of negativity, basking a lone heart in falsity.

Eventually, love will burst open, breaking free into reality, causing the lone heart to crack and fragment, piece by piece in glorious actuality.

Can we Bend Tomorrow?

Hey friend! How are you today?

I wonder if you could help me, please?

I have this idea that transpired from an arm stretch, and I wish to bend tomorrow.

I want it to curve and wrap itself around me, as I know it will be tremendous and meshed into the sea.

Tonight I’ll pick five stars from our wealthy universe; I’ll ground them with my elbows and sprinkle them all over your house.

Join me now.


‘Indoors, indoors, indoors!’

‘Crow, it’s for the benefit of all.’

‘Indoors, indoors, no more!’

‘Crow, it’s for the good of human-kind.’

‘Indoors, indoors, I hate these walls.’

‘Crow, you picked the colour, remember from before?’

The little blackbird ruffles his feathers in his spot on the corner of their kitchen table. He looks longingly out of the window and snarls, ‘Fucking panic-buyers, there wasn’t any chicken nuggets left!’ Unique turns off the saucepan that now has heated baked-beans, mushrooms and onions inside. ‘Crow, we’ll be fine. We have chickpea-chick’n for tomorrows dinner.’

‘Indoors, indoors, indoors! No more indoors, no more.’

Unique serves up two bowls of mashed potatoes, beans, mushrooms, onions and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Places the dishes onto the table, Crow grumbles and whispers, ‘I wanted roast chicken!’ Unique rubs his left cheek and prompts him to try his first meat-free meal.

The Dulux Box

It was delivered at 11:11 to my penthouse apartment.

I received the box and felt a sense of unease; it was blue, my favourite colour. But you never knew this, no one knew.

The box was velvet, which is a texture that makes my skin tingle. I hate it.

I sign for the box. Unique Dame.

I open it up and there it is, you did it.

I can’t say I’m proud of you. I wish you would leave me alone.

Well, leave me be. I’m happy.

When I said, I want your heart, not your money – I never meant your actual heart.

I assumed you were non-committal, and it would encourage you to disappear.

Crow had warned me months before, and he said: ‘Unique, your use of words can confuse the average man.’