Cunning threshold Where green inks Chiselled stone, Where whimsey Herself is enthroned, Her maidens inches from each path In imprints of each grown child’s laugh, A secret garden we may never know And so, we seek the inner world it fed; Fertile forests where thoughts are sown Into primordial seedbeds. Antonia Sara…
Month: February 2019
Burning Injustices
we will
with our will, ease
these dangers and perils;
we will burn these injustices.
Critically
The below was written in a stream of conscious, as part of Linda G. Hill’s SoCS prompt.
The waters are critically high and overseas semi-arid lands become ever-more dry. Critically, promises were broken, made and then broken, again and again, and again. Critically, the West has outsourced the worst of its pollution and, critically, I know why …
I am
I am free form, my cells don’t properly connect, according to the norm, as if I’ve stretched to welcome ocean but with it comes the blue as if particles of broken lives get beneath my paper skin, abrasive, gritty, at times bruising walking on pebbles and yet, this is coloured in with collective dreams…
Hope has petals
Insignificance does not apply, Rose pepper wings and crumbling things, As petals fade in half-light Clinging to the old walls To catch the flight of butterflies. Antonia Zenkevitch a response to a VJWC prompt
Chronicles
mind cataloging the shifting circumference
and significance
as sentiments deposit sediment
and their sands stretch wide and far,
and it feels i hear every footfall
until all i can hear is thunder
and still air …
Freeform Fridays
Hello poets, writers, artists, and other thinkers, Welcome to the first #FreeformFriday Prompt! This is not meant to compete with the other prompt, simply to add another angle. The prompt words this week are: GRITTY, CALM, BLUE (you can choose any 2 or 3) Set your words free Friday could be an alternative name…
The Century Stone
I have stood guardian
Through trials untold
In each frozen season,
Seen empires built and burned,
To those who sought on lonely roads
I have stood guardian,
Wise One
They say beware the wise one,
who knows the song of rue
and dances with the moon and sun
with courage to renew.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Lies in Old Westminster
Originally posted on The 48%:
? The fault lies in old Westminster; more corroded cogs kaput as tarnished chains sever each link they constitute, ? The fault, lies in Plain blinkered sight; acrid smoke screens our house alight, ? The fault a caldera; lava churns our vaults; The fault? Lies in old Westminster. ? Antonia Sara…
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 