Legato

Legato

You water the space between my bones and
I grow languid and long,
Line stretching
Beyond my own fingertips
Like an echo in blue,
Mouth full of violets,
Still as a living thing can be
Who exists between the
Clock chimes.

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©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

A Poet Begins

Hello, dear friends, and welcome to my Writer’s Room.
In this space, I will endeavor to share largely unedited and off the cuff poems, thought fragments, and contemplations with you.

Everything you read herein is my original work.
If you had desired to see a bit of my art and share some private thoughts, this is my answer to your queries.
Please enjoy the journey.

Our synapses branch between us
Like strings on a harp
That strum and create color notes
In our soft tissue
And that is how
For you, my love,
I become your masterpiece.

 

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©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

Steady

Steady


I cannot write
In a notebook without
Lines, these hands too
Clumsy and shy that

Defend my lips from speech,
Or strike like a viper,
Far too much
To contain themselves.

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Categories

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Want to stay in touch and recieve tour schedules? Fill out your e-mail address to receive my Newsletter!
E-mail address:  

©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

A Poet Begins

Hello, dear friends, and welcome to my Writer’s Room.
In this space, I will endeavor to share largely unedited and off the cuff poems, thought fragments, and contemplations with you.

Everything you read herein is my original work.
If you had desired to see a bit of my art and share some private thoughts, this is my answer to your queries.
Please enjoy the journey.

Our synapses branch between us
Like strings on a harp
That strum and create color notes
In our soft tissue
And that is how
For you, my love,
I become your masterpiece.

 

Want to stay in touch? Sign up for my mailing list!

Want to stay in touch and recieve tour schedules? Fill out your e-mail address to receive my Newsletter!
E-mail address:  

©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

Where is the King?

Where is the King?


I would paint you with the smell of crushed lilies 
And bits of broken china,
With sticky, sweet reds like carafes of wine
From the warm, basement bar stinking of French cheeses.

I would dip my toes, my arches in ink and dance over velvet
Like Salome to the rumble of your voice reading in my ear.

I’d make your likeness of suffused amber poured through
Charcoal like a city street if I could swallow it and wring it
From my hair in the morning

But these orchid hands cannot hold fire, and you are
So far, so far, so far from here
In your heather house.

I tap your rhythm but I do not sing.
I am no minstrel and one does not call
The King to court,
Only hope that his sails will fill and bring me
His true form soon.

keep reading...

Want to stay in touch? Sign up for my mailing list!

Want to stay in touch and recieve tour schedules? Fill out your e-mail address to receive my Newsletter!
E-mail address:  

©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

A Room of One’s Own

A Poet Begins

Hello, dear friends, and welcome to my Writer’s Room.
In this space, I will endeavor to share largely unedited and off the cuff poems, thought fragments, and contemplations with you.

Everything you read herein is my original work.
If you had desired to see a bit of my art and share some private thoughts, this is my answer to your queries.
Please enjoy the journey.

 

Our synapses branch between us
Like strings on a harp
That strum and create color notes
In our soft tissue
And that is how
For you, my love,
I become your masterpiece.

 

keep reading...

Want to stay in touch? Sign up for my mailing list!

Want to stay in touch and recieve tour schedules? Fill out your e-mail address to receive my Newsletter!
E-mail address:  

©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

A Poet Begins

Hello, dear friends, and welcome to my Writer’s Room.
In this space, I will endeavor to share largely unedited and off the cuff poems, thought fragments, and contemplations with you.

Everything you read herein is my original work.
If you had desired to see a bit of my art and share some private thoughts, this is my answer to your queries.
Please enjoy the journey.

Our synapses branch between us
Like strings on a harp
That strum and create color notes
In our soft tissue
And that is how
For you, my love,
I become your masterpiece.

 

Want to stay in touch? Sign up for my mailing list!

Want to stay in touch and recieve tour schedules? Fill out your e-mail address to receive my Newsletter!
E-mail address:  

©2017 Scarlett Sinclair. Designed by Black/Ash Consulting.

Scarlett St. Clair