You are not alone, a cliché but true,
though it sounds like another platitude
beneath which judgement or indifference lies,
yet, when sincere, this phrase can catalyse
threads spun across oceans, footsteps on the moon …
Tag: poem
Diagnosis 07/02/19
(*this post is about living the diagnostic process of a serious chronic illness and may contain triggers) They have to rule out worse alternatives But it’s almost definite, As geneticists speak of neurologists Physiotherapists, cardiologists And, if they deign to see me, Rheumatologists, There’s a remote possibility Of the one specialist Rehabilitation place in…
Cats’ Lives
She felt like a cat losing nine lives One by one slinking into night, Amid stark loss she realized She must enjoy her time While she had lives left To redefine, Savouring Breath like Wine. Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
To Sweeten Bitter
Pain tasted bitter,
So, breath’s blades and sugar-canes
Spun honeyed braids of auric air.
Calling All Poets, Thinkers, and Writers
‘Under ashen skies, unknown lullabies’
Where could we take the line together?
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,
High Street Quatern:
I know the high street’s doing great, Why would you require our custom? Don’t try to mend that broken lift, It’s forever since it broke down. I know your workers’ jobs are safe; I know the high street’s doing great, Why would you let me look inside? Bar all ‘disabled’ doors with crates. Make…
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…
Shit-Sock Sonnet (a political satire)
“Roll up! Hear the latest reports from our government,” A homeless man on a park bench gleefully shouts, “Woman in wheelchair throws shit-socks at parliament!” “She said it was for the country’s good, She’d ensured the more decent MPs weren’t about, Roll up! Hear the latest reports from our government, “No one believed her;…
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch 