She had eyes the colour of the Islay Sea.
Her hair silk and russet. Against the paleness of
her marked skin.There was strength
in her that burned…. a quasar. When she spoke
you listened. As if someone had whispered
into your soul. With that it grasped your heart
filling it with awe. A catalyst engulfing you
with desire to do a little more.Create
something beautiful. A woman who’s inner
light is Sirius. And unlike any other.
She is Osmium. Tá sí an bhean Is breá liom.


Hate. Such a vile word.
The feelings it derives are guttural.
As if I’ve contracted food poisoning.
I hate Peaches. Those
Fuzzy. Devilish fruits. Hanging
Ever so innocently from their trees.
Do not believe them. They are liars.
Their colours welcoming. Yet their
Innards strike a note of
Musky old socks with sugar and honey.
Plotting to ruin another day. Filling it with disgust. Why
Would anyone eat them? Tell me how
Something so beautiful shares the name.
For that, is beautiful. And the fruit. Well
Please burn it with fire.

Ext. Penn’s Landing – Night Time

We walked along the pier the other night.
The soft moonlight covering the ripples of the water.
Against the backdrop old ships past their prime
stand-fast as they no longer have purpose.
There is a cool breeze kissing the backs of our necks.
As we past each light post, I feel as if we are on set.
Scripted so perfectly with each deliberate action.
We admire the view lingering like spring rain.
Lights hang like electric fruit from the trees in the park.
A bride-to-be and her bridesmaids laugh as they stand together
devouring doughnuts in failed attempt to sober up.
A father carries his daughter on his shoulders
so she can see the lights that illuminates the waters.
Friends drink beer and sing songs of the years
reminiscing of days long gone.
Fighting our way through the crowds of people
coagulating on the walkways I take your hand.
We going to escape now just the two of us
racing back to the car we hit the road.
Where we end up, it doesn’t really matter.
We’re writing this film.

A Disaster Written about Love

I began cursing frantically
As my fingers hovered across keys
Every word I wrote, every line completed
A disaster….a train wreck in slow motion
A poem whose life was meant to portray
feelings of a foolish man in love
profoundly and with simplicity.

About a woman
That enters a room
As my heart forgets its own beat.
When she speaks
I hear the echo of great wisdom.
Whom kisses me
I feel my place in the universe.

Yet here I am plumes of coffee smoke
Rising from my mug.
Still cursing at the monsoon that is
this poem.
Trying so hard to write about
This love I have for you.

Hello from a Small Town

Hey Everyone,

Cameron here, or Cam if you get lazy like I do and want to shorten things. I do go by Cammy occasionally. But you know. We’re something different to everyone. So an introduction for myself…hmm…

I am an off-centre writer with a passion for poetry. I grew up always scribbling in note pads, on napkins, and on my arms if I had no paper. I come from a family where creativity was encouraged and honestly it was one of the most important things in my life. When not penning words I enjoy photography and a good movie.


I can’t wait to get started in a few hours now. The excitement is building.

Good luck to everyone and I can’t wait to see what amazing things we’ll write!