Originally posted on awisewomansjourney:
Antonia’s Freeform Friday Prompt – March 8, 2019 This week you can either chose from the previous words: gritty, blue, calm or soft, rain, spirals (any two or all three words anywhere in the text) Soft, loving spirals of rain calm her soul’s gritty, blue pain cleansing and healing the bleeding cuts within 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.
Signals
I love the rain spiral
senses encompassing animation,
satellite clouds, and clouds
displayed in white
in grey telemetry,
You love, the soft rain at night,
cold and warmth, tickle soft matter,
the interplay between pressure,
a means of guiding
receptors
placed in the injured part,
in this work, we fabricate one
love the just, visible,
forecast invisible intensity
from sunset to sunrise,
both play a role,
signals traveling
a spinal radar,
ignoring the pain
we love for the last hour,
signals from the skin;
low-symmetry particles
with shapes, spirals,
spirals, spirals,
yellow altitudes,
fluid, few to overcast
blue, blue, blue
gusts are green,
you, love,
the spiral …
Stars Given To The Moon (a poem for Women’s Day)
First, Majesty made sun and moon Equal luminaries, a sky to crown, Legend says Majesty spoke with the moon Who said no two could wear one crown, Majesty, some say, decreased the moon, The sun, it seemed, was left to wear the crown, Majesty, tales say, ministered to the moon By giving her…
Freeform Fridays Prompt
Originally posted on Antonia Sara Zenkevitch:
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…
The Moon Child
(*trigger warning – depicts a dystopian future) Do not ask where the ancestors are in this great, lonely city, for they are all around. Do not ask where the guardians of this lone child are, for they are with her every step. They go before her and follow after. They raise her up though she…
Get on with what?
Originally posted on The 48%:
“Get on with it!” say Brexiteers, That phrase, gravel in my ears, As one more factory shuts up shop A few more thousand lose their jobs Amid the lies that they would prosper If immigration disappears, The truth is there, but they don’t hear As we tie ourselves up in knots …
Absent I
Lost focus; Thoughts are flighty friends, Loneliness Born within The absent I escaping All navigation. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Sub Rosa
In those tangled threads of gold she has conceived a key, in stories long since told, in the electric codes of cities, sub rosa, wrapped in ribbons, she stands by St. Pauls dome, hers the more secret realms of inner wisdom and imagination for she is our unknown. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch With…
When Light Hurts
*trigger warnings regarding chronic conditions, including particularly serious ones Migraine I recognise Sensory disturbance, I’m calmer knowing what it is; My brain On fire, Waiting For full diagnosis Thinking of Dad’s aneurisms, Anxious, My sight blurs I am fire and ice Pressures rise Behind eyes; I had brain damage at birth, Now…
Whimsey’s Gate (#writephoto)
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…
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 