Blessed be The four walls around me. I tend to exist outdoors. I’ve long been a stranger to Holy places built by the hand of man, But lately I’ve discovered The precious silence preserved inside churches, And now the haven of the bathtub. Oh, to be, uninterrupted! Not by a bird, a cloud, a fly. … More Cave
So let’s count then : Split drum Smashed phone Sprinkled computer Torn kalimba Ripped travel bag Toothless rattle. People around me tend to Die At an enthusiastic pace. Their homes partners jobs vanish Their identity crumbles They have visions of wolves. Perhaps that’s the price I pay for the low rumble in my wake. The … More Singed whiskers
My favourite magic trick From the bag of the prophets Is Divine multiplication. I receive love give love Am love And then I spread it – Like throwing fat fistfuls of seeds to the birds. Then all around me happy birdsong erupts, It tickles the ear of a poet kindles his art Flares up a … More Multiply
The wind billows in my dress, Sails me out of every haven. It flicks away my anchor Without a backward glance. I dream of stillness You feed me accidents, You shake me by the ankles! Poke tickle pinch My clothes rip, Instruments break – Change my plans Steal my knife Take my name. I know … More “Get lost in the dance.”
Alone at last. There’s still salt on my cheeks sand in my hair Wind in my ears. Hours roll by behind plane windows. A rainbow spreads across the clouds and the moon rises, Full and silver on a blood red sky. My body still remembers the goosebumps Every time a voice speaks in the circle. … More Ista love poem
I’ve spent hours walking rose quartz paths barefoot. Meditating on the bridge where walking with naked feet and keeping an open heart meet. Both demand close attention to the environment. If the mind wanders, I cut my skin, bump fragile bones. With every step The stones press their jagged edges into my flesh. Nerve endings … More Barefoot
I had a dream a few weeks ago. Someone said to me : “Hey, there are queens all around you!”. I woke up and pulled a card : the Queen of Cups. This week they’ve been relentless : every time my fingers would reach for my deck, one would be there, waiting for me. So … More what does a queen look like?