Saturday, October 23, 2021

Poetry

Resurrection

i have arrived at my altar. hark! i rise, i flourish, i pirouette on my one toe and float like a prayer. this is my triumph; the...

Stalking Prisons

The streets are empty with no one in sight, I check the big clock of the tower behind the basilic of Saint Francis of Assisi. It’s 2 o’clock on a mid-summer Tuesday afternoon. Everything’s shut. Everyone’s resting. My heart’s hitting the walls of its all so tight ribcage, as I need to cross the brightly lit square and go to the other side.

Her Dead Alive Octopus

I caught upon an uncanny creature,Amidst a fish vending street.Like the ghostly alien hands,Its spooky limbs shined in the summerish streak. “Snap up some dried...

Our Men are Learning

“Cut them some slack,our men are still learning.”“Don't be so harsh,our men are still learning.”Did you know thatthe learning cycle of an average malecoincides...

As a soothing sign

As a soothing signrivers flow unpollutedinto our hearts,we are locked,where are our friends,neighbours, relatives…they went to the world of distancing,the mask wearing figuresroam around,quarantines,...

Three Poems for Her

The Weaver Let me weavethe red and white rishathe black rigwnaiand connect to my womanhood, Let me weavethe pachra and achalcelebrate geometric motifsand connect to my...

This Day

This day isAll there ever was, all there is, all there will ever beFor, all tomorrows will be, all todays are, all yesterdays were,For...

Ode to an Inkling

Deep within, the Recluse and his Muse sit arm in arm. Limbs intertwined in passion. The Recluse indulges his Muse, Time forgotten, space confined. I am without you, within you, the Muse muses. I am the screams of silence.

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