Poverty Lessons. — Denaya Rose

I learn to sleep on an air mattress in the one-bedroom apartment I share with my mother. We don’t have any real furniture yet, but we do have a space to call our own. There’s no overbearing or intoxicated male presence to tell us what to do, and for the first time in my life, […]…

Priti

  Priti Patel tells a nearly all-white, mostly male reactionary elite what she has been taught to say and think in order to be accepted. They look at her, confused, blank round faces staring back at this Asian woman reaffirming all their cherished prejudices. She speaks of ending the free movement of people once and…

Real Fantasy

(post formally called ‘the magic touch’) I love magical realism, the unexplained sitting side by side with routine, reasoned reality.  Perhaps I love it because in truth reality rarely appears very reasonable. My fascination may in part be because that taste of magic fulfills in me a yearning for everyday enchantment, but not too much…

The Good, The Bad, the Ugly

Hello All, Apologies for not posting in quite a while. This is the good, the bad and the ugly and the hopeful reasons why. As many of you who follow this blog will know, I have to battle a complex mix of disabilities and health challenges. Early this year I gained two more diagnoses, for…

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…

Burning Injustices

we will

with our will, ease

these dangers and perils;

we will burn these injustices.

Do Say

Do say, don’t abate,
unleash that sly stream of hate;
feign each injury
is just advise to cure me.

Echo

    I am Echo now Yet he still does not understand   And, exhausted, I say “I know when I’m not making sense, But this is not one of those times”   And he replies, “If you know you’re not making sense Don’t be angry,”   And I say the same again, then again…

Indices

I write of lives in indices, Scenes sketched within margins Of halts for breath in sentences, Of freedom in parenthesis In our secret garden,   I write of lives in ink; Hers inscribed in water In quiet apocalypse Others would call order,   I write of lives, Their curve in words At boundary lines To…

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…