Idiolalia Poetry Collection Now Available!

Hello all 🙂 Thank you all so much for your support.Click here to buy from Lulu --->

Idiolalia is available straight from the printer now at 3 GBP or 5 USD each (or a cheaper PDF ebook copy).

If you order from Lulu through the link provided here it should be sent straight to your house, super-easy.

The price may change in the future, but for now it’s a steal 😉 so if you’ve appreciated any of the poetry on my blog and might like to have an accessible 25-30 of them for yourself, please support my work.

Please let me know if you have any questions or special requests!


PS. I’m currently working on a new collection titled Faith & Forces

Click here to Purchase some Poetry…



It’s pouring in clear sheets outside in the dark, and the trees’ branches are like many arms in a wild dance with the wind… The sound of the water falling, making contact with earth and with my dwelling makes me content. I feel clean and whole inside. I pray this is not the last day of this storm — what Glory!
Your thousand limbs rend my body.
This is the way to die:
Beauty keeps laying
Its sharp knife
~Hafiz (love!)

c. Mary Kathryn Gough, journal excerpt fall ’05

:Scarred Sky Weeping:

this cool breeze reaches me through crAcked

this window, freshly filled

my lungs, with oxgyen-laden

truths. my ears taste

tiny drops of rain — so many

millions hit smooth decking at

Once: jUmp,

lay still.

my senses are soothed, surrounded

by the joining of guitar chords dancing

heart-to-mind-to-fingers and the sound of

rain-drip-dropping, pat-a-rat-tatting, sky

rushing grey, rolling clouds; the breeze

follows me, filling the vacuum left

by my leaving, slowly waving

branchedly knobbled arms

goodbye ~

somehow knowing

i cannot



God plants raindrops for me whenever I leave

a place, and one day

wild roses will rise, full of

color and life, and someone

else will enjoy

the smiling face of the sun, sharing a

hope in which I have(Here)

no deep-seated belief.

While I (irrevocably, irretreivably Here),

solidly set upon this aching earth(for what

i hardly yet know),

I often embrace this darkened sky’s tears,

clouds veiling its face from cruelty,

from injustice: the lack-of-love this world

exudes. And yet

I dance also, dance among

drops of an annointing I have a whole Life yet

to understand in full.

)Grace and life are just around the corner, always,

in our pockets, in the eyes of the homeless,

the abused, the lost and weary — if we could just

See the chemical change from death to life

occuring all around us

in every heart,

it would begin in our own…(


crAcked, they call me.

i feel Open, Open to join this wind, covering

the sky’s scarred face

from further marring.

my love rests with the heart of this sorrowing sky; vast

compassion, she Understands, waits on the workings of

Salvation (which we insist

is already here, Universal.)Not true! Redemption is so

personal, so

unique and ‘lone– gloriously so– and yet

Here i find the universe

is honest enough to Mourn

for the Broken. . .

{They Shall Be Comforted.}


c. Mary Kathryn Gough

11/03/05 12.01 pm

3/30/06 11.32 am London

5.13.06 6.36 pm London

my ink_


my ink Grows
in the deep blue Sea of
(V a s t, this)night,

sending roots
down deep, tendrils
up and out
— a r OUnD

in anticipation of the break
(ing of soil,) of dawn and
s w e e t a i r —|

but for now, Rest.

Satisfied in soily blackness; Rest,

swept by weeping curtains of —    —     —Rain
this night in the reservoir.



you see,

you must understand: a river
runs, maze-like
within my flesh– R – u – S – h
– e – S in, between, t Hhr OU
gH, over and around my

(–but not to bReAk–
capillaries coping, coping,
coping) with aged, Sorrowing Salt:
insidious. Deathly.

…vein-deep blue
is my color yet. and BlaCk…
like the night of a sightless embryo
adrift in a windless sea.



my ink Grows
with an Invisible
hue; its living color
fades into nightly

…feels like all the
growth is in

c. Mary Kathryn Gough
3/2/05 1.52 pm
edit: 5.13.06 10.36 am london
edit: 5.13.06 5.39 pm london
edit: 4.23.12 7.13 pm wales

against another rain

these rains are soft and
searching, long and
lurching with the need that
deepwithin my chest
for a toe-hold: one small crack
in which to place a finger-
nail but today my heart is obsidian
,smooth as glass,
and that precious, ancient,
spongey wisdom of Redwood is far
from my stony mind and anguished
spirit as i grit my teeth against
all the living, moving glory that could be


c. Mary Kathryn Gough
10/27/05 4.54 pm, edit: 17 Feb 8.57 pm


the wet outside tamps down

the dust in my soul, clearing my

throat and freeing me to

B R E A T H E – – – –


more, more, moremoremore:givemeMOREec-

static – set loose – whatcouldido

today? Possibility and opening must be

often (while not always)

triggered by the physical. . . well, sobeit!

So be it.


I am entranced by ionic activity – it lures me;

it draws me in; it expands my soul.

In its personless companionship somehow I LIVE

so much more.


c. Mary Kathryn Gough, Feb 9, 2012 9.25pm wales