Disillusioned
All of this “improvement” only dismantles my safe space,
My one corner of quiet
In this hellish prison of consumerism.
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Through the Dark
Perhaps if we tuned into the soul-call of our own hearts
We could see the flickers of light
That beckon us to explore the dark,
The wild,
The unknown… -
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If You Float You’re a Witch
The witch hunts were essentially designed to root out anyone that opposed or didn’t conform to the patriarchal model of the time (and this one). Specifically, this meant single women, widows, the old, and the poor. All of these people were considered a needless expense of their village, because they did not neatly fit into the “woman’s” role as wife, child-bearer, or even sex object. If they couldn’t be used for baby-making, they were of no use to society.
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Blackberries
We stumble endlessly upon beauty
And the fruits of the Earth.
Our winding conversations
Sweep us through infinite fields
Of crackling summer grass,
And carry us along on the soft sea breeze. -
Dispassion
I am coated in cynicism,
Its chalky glaze pasted with rough hands over my soft heart.
I see beauty, but it does not breathe inspiration into the blackened cave of my mind. -
Autumn Falls
I find solace in the Gibbous Moon
That shines outside my window.
She gazes down upon me
And I think she feels some part of my truth. -
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Strangers in the Smoke
The city was up in smoke –
We screamed, we ran,
And then we were conquered –
Forced into hiding.
