Tough Love

Tough love, life is precious, my energy too scarce to push the granite walls you build, shift now.   Antonia Sara Zenkevitch

Candles & Questions

One of two poems:

we lit candles after

their names and tales on our ears

flames flickering, like souls.

Love All

  Whatever’s happening in the world, in all our lives, whoever you are I feel the will to say   I Wish You Peace!

#FreeForm Friday Round up and Prompt

  Hello all, Below is the wonderful round-up of last week’s #FreeFormFriday prompt, exploring the art of free form and combined form. Many thanks to contributors. Apologies for being slightly delayed today, life overtook events. From now on I’ll be running this fortnightly. If you would like to join in I’d love to hear from…

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 …

Burning Injustices

we will

with our will, ease

these dangers and perils;

we will burn these injustices.

You Are Not Alone

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 …

Experience (#writephoto)

Experience I will not speak about the greens Painting the sky with varied hues, I will not draw rose thorns To try to show you Or talk of the riot Of violets and blues, Quietly, I will close my eyes And experience this with you, Where you walk unseeing Yet surely between soft lines Of…

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…