Just sit and be still;
Meagre sounds compete with massive silence.
Giving myself to it in a different way now,
Yet tinges of teenage angst touch me with cold, sad fingers,
And I need to grieve for her,
For the self who ate to feel love,
Continue reading “I am loving her now”You left me.
Wounded.
I needed help.
You turned away.
Hardened yourself.
Wrote a prescription.
Continue reading “Cold Medical Model Didn’t See Me”There are no words to express this pain.
They touch the surface of it;
Graze and glance off.
“It’s not fair,” is the childish refrain
That strikes my heart,
Tries to open it,
And squeeze inside.
Continue reading “Back to the Heart”Gliding through shimmering mirrors
Passing reeds standing sentry.
Even slow speeds cause ripples,
But oh! What ripples!
Calm grace sliding by
Orange beak, white feathers
Flat against the back;
Continue reading “Natural Awe”This life sings its own song,
If I let it.
Red velvet loosely covers my sins.
Loving is powerful,
Trapping and freeing.
Singing it sends me home.
I feel it rising,
Continue reading “This life sings its own song”Where did it get lost?
That sense of who we are at the core.
Our creative selves.
Born into Capitalism, we had no chance to flourish,
Unless the values of competition, unlimited growth, profit were honed.
We are not mindless resources to be exploited.
We are human animals.
Continue reading “Reconciling Capitalism““Seriously,” said Sandra, “if you feed it, it will grow.”
“What shall I feed it?” Said I. I didn’t quite believe her yet.
“You’re the only one who can answer that,” she smiled and a tiny dimple stroked her cheek briefly.
“But I don’t know the answer!” I felt hot and the words left me quickly. She smiled again. I shook my head, then stared at her. Silence.
Then, “what?” She laughed.
Continue reading “Heart Womb Room”Fucking pigeons!
They land on the balcony and do their little dance.
Beady eyes spying the corner where they laid eggs before.
That sound as they land alerts me to them and I jump up and wave my arms.
Sometimes they leave immediately.
When it doesn’t work I turn the window handle to the open position.
Continue reading “Fucking pigeons!”Light pours through my window.
It does not trickle, it floods.
Some things get covered.
Some remain in the shade;
Slightly cold and damp to touch.
It is a poor second to being outside in the woods.
Like a cat I find a sun spot and let the sun caress my toes.
Continue reading “Yes, we make a nice, soothing cup of tea”