The Lipse and Lapse of Time – Lois E. Linkens & Candice Louisa Daquin

lois and candice


I saw beautiful men and

beautiful women. I had lucked out,

all this beauty; my heart’s a drummer

with a stick and feather. My mother held a gnarled club

and beat me gently… The man I had,

the gentle man I loved –

could I not love him full and whole? To commit

is to renounce – a pretty life, or one lit in red.

My wiring does not bleed into

our lover’s bed.

And with that purple face I took

the other’s hearts,

with special care.

The kisses that you spit on, I have bottled them

with lavender and thyme.

not the numerics against my skin

scratching their prophecy

nor length of hair

there’s no Disney moment left

we examine in our woven display

the paper-cut fold of our life story

I list in dusty light

urging you to like me, for my tempered fears at night

the way you nailed the door shut

told me everything hadn’t been true just jagged words

I like you you said

I love you you said

rinse the violence, curb the taunt

Formed on lips sucking guile

waiting for something better

didn’t anyone tell you?

it’s impossible to tear down girls without strings



‘Tis like a fairytale’;

they likened years of ancient life

to books so writ by men whose graves were lined

by such fantastic pages.

That disparaging smile quick gained

upon a sip from self-worship’s cup,

pride’s bright goblet drained quite dry that night.

And with that shrivelled heart

I set up camp;

a canvas sanctuary.



here is the lipse and lapse of time,

winding down her day which is long turning to clay and becoming reborn,

maybe, that’s why they invented skyscrapers

reculer pour mieux sauter, whilst the rest of us,

flowering in lotus dark

are eaten by pretend bees,

whose yellow and indigo stripe

taunt race memory,

something poisonous,

confounding, honeyed

the bed is dry, my feet too soft,

everything has reversed, even bath water tastes like gin

and music playing during the car crash, was the same song heard in the rain

when (you) nodded, pressing blurring fingers to glass

whatwouldhavehappenedif, I’d stayed in the dream,

let it take me to Vancouver island

lived beneath my skirts and kept you at arms length, is it too late to find out?

Has the core of an apple, a seed that will grow



See, these remains are in the dirt

With swirls of blood and clods of hurt.

I have woken in my earthen bed;

Like a turbine in tempestuous plot

I reap these blows. The future’s fed

With windy morsels, sweet and hot.

When tempest summons the grief of chance

No more lost in turmoil, I cleave toward ending darkness

In hopeful stretch, my cocoon of childhood shedding

For this diminishment is greatly exaggerated

I am complete, burning oxygen in my song of survival

Nothing defeats the rise of woman lest permission granted

And I say no, you will not dine on my regrets


Lois is a poet and student from England. She is studying the literature of the Romantics and hopes their values and innovations will filter through into her own work. She is working on longer projects at present, with a hope to publish poetry collections and novels in the years to come. She is a feminist, an nostalgic optimist, and a quiet voice in the shadows of Joanne Baillie and Charlotte Smith. It is a pleasure to present her work, and you can find more of it at Lois E. Linkens.

Candice Louisa Daquin is a French author of five books of poetry. She is publishing her sixth collection this year and working on her first book of prose. Daquin is actively involved with several writing collectives including Sudden Denouement, GoDogCafeGo, Hijacked Amygdala, Indie(B)lue, TheWhisper&TheRoar and RUSH among others. Daquin’s work is featured in many online magazines and publications among them; RATTLE, North American Poetry Review, Voices de la Luna, and MemoryHouse Magazine. Her collections of poetry are sold through Barnes & Noble, Amazon and Finishing Line Press. You can read more of her work at The Feathered Sleep

3 thoughts on “The Lipse and Lapse of Time – Lois E. Linkens & Candice Louisa Daquin

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