the skin of my land

I’m a runner with my feet firmly planted.
I’ve trekked miles but no surface.
I love without the skin of new lands to touch.
I’m hikingΒ across a squeezed-up flesh earth;
grass, mountain and river,
overshadowed byΒ lyric and verse.
I’m uprooted, moving daily from place to place
in the secluded parts of myself
covered in skin and skull bone.
I’m home, in the ink and the browning paper
I’m home, in the windowsill’s potted plants green
I’m home. All I need is to see.

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National Poetry Month | On Making Inspiration

April was National Poetry month, and I set myself a challenge of writing a poem every day of the month. I was expecting to give up quite early on, but I made it to day 25!? Okay, so I didn’t make it through the entire 30 days, but I nearly did – so I’m counting it as an achievement. I clearly have very high expectations of myself.
Continue reading “National Poetry Month | On Making Inspiration”

Adventure for me is a patch of tulips.

Adventure for you is the beginning of a thousand novels in your smiles
It is the chapters turned over with every blink of your eyes
It is pieces of many stories inked into your skin in indecipherable signs
Your lips speak of life in magnificent tales Continue reading “Adventure for me is a patch of tulips.”

My Weather | A Poem

My weather is not delicate, soft and lukewarm.
My summer is not a light brush of shoulders in between crowded doors,
Or a gentle, light laugh that shyly forms
In low-tide waters far from shores.

Continue reading “My Weather | A Poem”