dance on lovers

October 11, 2014

last candle burning on the table
lights are dimmed
bodies on the dance floor slink together
as if from the same mould
fit together in all the right ways
seeking fortune
through touch
it’s warm in here
like the Amber in my glass
bass booms
dancers sway
their grace is contagious
eyes are glazed
mine caught by flame
seated at the table
lone wolf
preferring observation
than devout participation
lips smiling all the same
joy is as catching as a flame
they may pity me
but I can’t be brought down
the mirth in my eyes sparkle just the same
I am aloof
but present
just the same
dance on lovers
you captivate me
I pen this for you
last candle on the table burns out
the fire burns on into the night
in our hearts
and minds
great night to be alive

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved

the main sequence

September 11, 2014

the main sequence
the stars are aligned
while they are alive
until they have consumed
their hydrogen core

then they break away
into the outlying crops
as red giants
and eons later
as white dwarfs

I wonder if
we as humans
are aligned
in the same manner

drifting away
after we’ve burnt out
but still giving off
visible light

just offside
the main sequence
but even in dying
not far off
still glowing
at our core

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved


September 11, 2014

so faintly
not until
decades later
do you look back
and see the crescendo
now whole surrounded

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved

slow sink

September 9, 2014

she always was a bit of a slow sink
trap door to the drain
in sucking the life out of others
woe is me
headlined her every waking moment
passionate in her outrage
drawing in
new ones to feel sorry for her
as the old ones
u traps
blame a game she mastered
never self directed
rinsed well
of responsibility
how dare the world
treat her in such a way
porcelain throne
she became
oh I knew her quite well
the inner workings
of her plumbing
she finds new ones
as the old ones
can’t swim
the maelstrom
of her whirlpool
without going down
her midbrain disdain drain
she was always a bit of a slow sink into hell
and now
she’s the Niagara
of waterworks
her taps run hot and cold

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved


September 9, 2014

to the background
make their presence known
from the shadows
to those in the footlights
stage left
they wish you would exit
all for you
to the background
from the shadows
they call you
but you aren’t listening
any longer
can’t hear
over the applause
giving it your all

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved

trust in

September 4, 2014

static charged rituals

based upon
a once actual

provocative provocation
closed loop consolations
set in your belief

filling up on
empty philosophies
permanent firmaments

venom laced scriptures
burning belonging
set the world afire
us vs them

night vision
searching for salvation

mortal trepidation
follow the ancients
new age
old ways

all aboard
unconditional acceptance

hedonists dancing
in the streets

who forsake their immortal soul
the shaming
us vs them

eyes watering
cup runneth over
have faith

drawn to outward
soothing designs
forsake all others

even absence
is blindingly followed
into the oblivion

give up responsibility
trust in

restless temptress
lifetime of adoration
can’t save you from
endless need for attention

self aware
of the audience
trust in
autopilot devotion

never question
never say those
damning words
“I don’t know”

all by design
peaceful slumber
trust in

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved

junk emails

September 3, 2014

(wrote this last year & just came across it. <3 Nette)

All of these emails come in.
My heart stops a second.
It falls.
It prays.
It’s never you these days.

Just junk emails.
At 1:00am.
You’ve gone away.
Far far away.

Though I still hear from you.
You’re no longer there.
Just a blank slate with static responses.

An intelligent social computer with forced cordiality.
Ever the polite arm’s length span.
Which digitally translates as a once high speed connection gone to the dial-up wastelands.

My heart falls.
It sinks.

Just another junk email only this one has you as the sender.

I must still have hope in me that makes me miss you still.

A lark.
A laugh.
What a riot.
What a fool I am.

Farewell & best wishes,
Your once thirty second closest friend.

© 2013 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved


September 2, 2014


a word
of shame


we have
holding a Victorian fan while throwing knives
at your back
the second you turn around

aren’t we so superior
when we have
no money on the table
no skin in the game

gathered round the coliseum

shame on them
they should have known better
than to let themselves become victims

we cannot be the same
hindsight tells us the answers
that they should have seen
it’s so clear now
in the aftermath

we watch their entrails spill
watch them be torn apart
hear them violated
take their last breath

we watch rapt
we don’t even think to turn away

we do nothing
and feel no guilt

for we
had no money on the table
and no skin in the game

for we
weren’t the tigers
killing the martyrs

but we’ve got
blood on our hands
claws as fingernails
just the same
when we shame

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved


September 2, 2014

deep breaths
when they’re trying to break you

deep breaths
when the tears are falling down

deep breaths
when you’re so sick of the Earth and every fucking body on it

deep breaths
when you can’t hang on

deep breaths
when they’ve left you alone

you’ve never been broken
only press hammered moulded by the forces to which you’re exposed

those tears are forging new places to smile again
because you’re letting go
of that mothball attic stuff
that was no good to you anyhow

look at how strong you are
molten by the flames
and when you cool
you’ll be on the mend
sharper edge then before
fuck if you need anyone

the anvil’s only purpose is to reform you
it’s nothing personal
in the constant crushing suffering
in the red raked coals

when you’ve cooled
you be engraved with something new
any mantra you could wish
just make it yours

know when to sheathe yourself
and know when to strike for the heart
know when to defend the defenceless
know when to defend yourself

ah my darling

deep breaths
when the world fucking sucks

you are being reformed

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved

I feel too much – I feel it all

August 30, 2014

I feel too much.
I fucking admitted it.
Happy now?

You’ve only been telling me so, life, in the voices of different people all these years.
“Don’t take it so hard.”
“Get ahold of yourself.”
“You’re being over emotional.”
Can’t help it.
I’m wired this way.

Tell me about your day.
I’ll see it in an instant.
Feel it just as hard.

If I seem cold,
it’s because I have a motherfucking award winning poker face.
To let you know you get to me
is never allowed.

But trust me-

I feel it all.
Can’t turn it off.
These days I don’t want to.

So there.
I feel too much.

In a world so coldly calculating,
I’m a foolish heart beating that’s well attuned to everyone around me.

I can read your body language like a lover.
I can feel tension that cuts not only the air but me until I’m pretty shreds of ribbons.

I feel it all.
And dammit I’m not changing.

Maybe I was born in the wrong century.
Or maybe this world needs a conduit because right now it can’t afford to cry for itself so I will.

If I hold your hand, you damn well know I understand.
But I don’t need to touch you to see your soul.
Your eyes tell me everything I need to know.

So please forgive me if I don’t always meet your eye.
It’s a heavy burden to bear.
I do it willingly, mind you.
I love you the same as I am in love with the whole world.

Forgive me if I seem cold.
There’s only so much of me to go around.
Then again,
I’m closer than you can possibly know.

Words just can’t explain the fact I feel it all.

© 2014 Nette Ford: @ClubNette All Rights Reserved

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