Originally posted on Reowr:
When the mountains impale the sky,They rupture the veins in the cloudsAnd colors explode with a sighWhile wrapping the heaven in shrouds. When the mountains impaleThe malevolent winds,They sink fast with a wailLike a shark with no fins. When the mountainsAll roar with pride,Lava fountainsErupt inside. When theClouds start to cry,Rain…
Author: antoniazen
Word-weaver and artist. I'm Co-founder of Nott Normal; a Nottinghamshire based independent accessible, adaptive and gently provocative arts collaboration. Resident story-weaver for set of virtual Cottage in the Woods courses by Yelala from late autumn 2020, early Spring 2021. My writing and art have recently been part of Poems on Prescription, the National Museum of Justice's (UK) acclaimed Letters of Restraint, and The National Holocaust Memorial Centre's (UK) What is Testimony? Art and written work has appeared in various independent publications including LeftLion, Miknaf Haaretz, and Proliterat. I'm a warrior of various disabilities and chronic illnesses with an MA in Human Security (Peace and Human Development). I've worked in creative conflict resolution, sustainability & interfaith work. I stood for parliament (& local gov) in 2015, getting 9.9%, in the top 20 national results for the party. I've since left politics unless you count negotiating between three cats and a laptop. I love animals, my favourite humans, wild landscapes, accessible cities and the sea.
still here; still hear
Hello, I say to friends, poets, travelers and unknown warriors,
I have not posted on this site for a long while initially due to being messy-busy then due to being very unwell. I seem to have collected chronic illnesses to add to life-long and new disabilities. I’ve recently written an article in a local newspaper called Left Lion about these experiences, so instead of boring you here, I’ll let you decide if you’d like to know more by clicking the link.
For a while, I could not write or talk much, which let me tell you, refocuses you somewhat when you can. I’ve been slowly compiling my work into books. Between computer and brain crashes and bouts of bardic outbursts, this is taking time. I’m also trying my hand at fan fiction, which began as an exercise to flex my literary muscles while escaping the adult world, yet seems to be evolving. I will shortly be posting a link…
48 Percent Life
Originally posted on The 48%:
into the loaded silence, I write all about a 48 percent life, while the globe spins on a knife into the loaded silence, I write as i watch, gross injustices ignite my body immobile, thoughts in flight into the loaded silence, I write all about a 48 percent life. ? Antonia…
Fa La La; a protest to ‘Deck the Halls’ — The 48%
PM singing Yuletide carols, Fa la la, la la la, la la la, While the UK is in peril, Fa la la, la la la, la la la, via Fa La La; a protest to ‘Deck the Halls’ — The 48%
Women’s March
It has been a long time since I’ve posted on this blog for various reasons. (I will leave these until other posts.) I am inspired today to share two poems and some images regarding the various marches happening to say no to hate and dare I say it stupidity playing out in politics today. I…
Remembrance: a poem by a red & white poppy wearer
If I don a red poppy it is not for one state, It is not to declare some glory in war – It’s so often started by greed, fear or hate – But I recall those perished on many a shore Due to directives of others, not due to fate, So many have died, I…
Opaque Horizon
Terror is this opaque horizon, toppling on the brink Of seeming void; in emptiness of a missile spent, Margins smudged with names obscured under ink Of tyranny of those that will not relent, or think, There may have been a gleam to glean but then The witness blinked and the sky was splinter-rent, This…
Dear Theresa
I wrote this last year when the government were talking about ‘non-violent extremism’ laws. In the recent attacks on human rights I am posting it. It is a personal response, all views my own: Dear Theresa Dear Theresa May Am I non-violently extreme Because I hate what you say And have the courage To think…
Who are we, really?
what is it to be British? A blog piece for UN Anti-racism Day
A Song of Poppies (in hope of more peace)
Bend swords into ploughshares, flutes, trumpets, drums and violins As one exhales their last, still another greatest symphony begins, And this is our triumph; when words fail us, the sound of horn Quavers upon wind, words of peace as seeds of poppies spawn; I will wear both red and white in remembrance and anticipation Of…
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 