Labyrinthine
Body carved of clay
Sparks within
Visioning
A way through this unknowing
Luminescent maze.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Category: Soul-scape
Soul-scape is an exploration of seeking and experience of spirit, soul, oneness, unity, faith and its flickering, prayer, the divine romance, traditions, law and lore reflected, re-evaluated, affirmed, questioned, discussed. It is my way of navigating, expressing, reaching, translating without dictating. The role of artist or poet is not propaganda but a speaking soul to soul, heart to heart, eye to eye in such a way that shares experience and ideas whilst opening space for another’s own personal interpretation and experience. This is my aim.
Thirsty Words
I’d lost words
But with keen intent
Regained them,
In each breath
Paroxysms of purpose
Direct gusts of wind …
Laughing the Stars
Laughing the Stars You laughed the stars Into the sky And, though clouds cover them In this moment of despair With those unquestioned whys In your bright eyes, I know your heaven’s there In the bright spheres of life, So, while we wait For the atmosphere to clear Let me just state For…
Mirror (#writephoto)
Mirror;
berobbed weapon
scrying, warning, being
wars of crimson in reflective
flat-blade,
The Jade Quill
Life
between
sheets of dreams
knowing none know
where my tides convene
at breaker’s edge, the brow
transformed in the under-toe;
Time, Light and The Artist
…Time is our collaborator and our adversary as artists. Authors bend the passage of time in story arcs, suspense, and romantic timing. Comedians craft the pace of words and motion into jokes. Cinematographers and film directors focus our perceptions with the length of each shot, our mind lingering where the camera points. Painters decide where shadows fall. All art has its own relationship with the ticking clock and the Earth’s rotation around the sun….
Time Coats
February snow,
Crocuses and I make bold;
Time wears many coats
Of blossom, rays, rain, and ice,
Thus, my words will don them too.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
The Rhythm
The ocean murmurs to the beach and all the grains of sand of each tide’s potent transience, listen; silt and shingle understand time tumbling through liquid hands, shipping news, travel plans, lost civilizations and then that next great, ingulfing wave expands beyond where you think it should, globes in grains, mumbles in wombs as…
40 Fragments
I cannot count them, these broken pieces of possibility.
But they haunt me, oh, days cantering by they do,
and I am whirlwind in a storm box,
Measuring Absence; a collaborative poem, join in.
Measuring Absence How do you measure the weight of absence; the void at the gate, in ambit, to wait to become an interval or sequence, a hitch in the air to anticipate, to calculate the mass of an absence …. (What comes next? Can you fill the absence of following verses?) I have recently…
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 