Your ink assembles into timeless nouns and verbs on pages.
You reveal yourself to me in stages.
You are wild — like a beautiful night unfolding full of midnight sun,
dusk to dawn moon-rise and twilight phases.
You take my breath away over and over again
and confront me with the memory of my own stardust.
You are black magic.

When it all falls down,
you mine the rubble for uncut diamonds.
You light fires and rain oceans over forests,
you create emotional experiences and scenes
captivating imaginations as you runaway with us evergreen.
You connect and provoke.
You give meaning…

Hello September,
how long has it been?

Feels like I’ve been missing you since I don’t know when.
Hold me in your arms like a long lost friend,
I thank each star I’m here to see you again.
Ask me any question and I’ll tell you no lies.
Make me no promises, spare the long goodbyes.
Before leaves turn and fall like summers ashes — this time,
open my heart, don’t just pass me by.

Show me something good —
just show me how to begin,
tell me dreams are possible
not whether i’ll lose or i’ll win. …

I dance with my sons.
Melodies sway us along.
Between our arms — there’s no space for heartbreak songs.

During the sojourn of hellish days,
we dance through the heartache and worry all around.
The weight of the world
tries to bring us down, down, down.
But between our arms —
heartbeats pound and echo the sounds of ancestors chanting us on.
We’re dreams that linger on,
the Psalms that must be sung,
we’re timeless and beyond.

They are somebody’s sons. I am somebody’s mum.
I dance with my sons.
Between our arms — there’s no space for heartbreak songs.

…

We — humans; human genders; human sex; humankind — are in the thick of a global pandemic that continues to disturb and claim lives. Although the threat is indifferent to, travel bans, vaccine mandates, ‘vaxxed’ or ‘unvaxxed’ status, the hero or villain narratives constructed in needlessly convoluted sentences — have become a part of the daily shit-show of curated propaganda. The spectacle of it all, threatens to bury common sense in its landslide.

This is not a pandemic of the ‘unvaxxed’. Making such a claim — is misinformation and obscene. Accusing parents — who choose not to vaccinate their children…

Twilight bleeds into darkness as I look across the sky. Once again, I’m searching this expanding abyss of night and finding nothingness. Where are all the stars? I can’t be the only one wondering, restless in London — ‘jonesing’ for a dark sky full of starlight. I don’t know when I last saw a star, many days and weeks; perhaps its been months. I do know that somewhere — in the space between us and the edge of our Universe — billions of stars are hiding in plain sight. You can’t tell me that ain’t poetic.

Finding your way through…

It’s early morning. Dawn breaks across the summer sky over London and reveals itself as overcast. Soon enough — the sunrise occurs, but alas; there’s no sun up in the sky. To my mind, this doesn’t seem like a good beginning, but it’s a beginning nonetheless; so — ‘hello morning’. I breathe in the countless shades of grey and feel my lungs already filling with paint fumes — emanating from the freshly painted walls and gun-smoke grey front door from the house downstairs — wafting up through my nose and up to intertwine with this melancholy sky. With each blink…