recent posts
Mulitdicipinary Writer
Category: Poetry
-
I bring an unfamiliar teato my lips and sit in silence. I don’t know howthis mind deteriorated. I remember feelinga switch, almost,flip inside cueingcredit to roll too early,perhaps accidentally. Since then,everything beganto float around me. What do I do now?With thoughts hung likeupside down furniture,afloat without direction;with my soul in pitiful condition. Constantly, I amconfused…
-
My oldest dream slipsfrom beneath me. The heaven I chasedsince childhood likea pup would endlesslychase its own tailnow trails far behind. Homesick for maple,for pucks and stickstossed behind by boys from the neighborhoodon a water breaks left outside at the cul-de-sac. We played ball, too,when we were younglike children often do. I still hear the…
-
If you need me, I’ll be down at Capilano. Where the trees are that olive green I can’t seem to forget. Even if I wanted to. And sometimes, I really do want to.
-
I built my world around you,every cup of tea a promise to honor your stubborn memory. Though our time togetherwas short as your temper, I couldn’t imagine being with anybody else after. That’s the thing about love—it doesn’t just leave.It lingers, even when it hurts,like the smell of smoke knitted into your favorite sweater, or the hum of a…
-
There are some things women only learn in their kitchens / how to hold knives / how to slice with one, sharp cut / how to salt a dish playfully / and how to dance from the table to the fridge to the cutting board to the sink and dance right back just to rinse…
Dali 