It took a long time for me to consider myself a writer. I still struggle with saying it. I started writing at a young age to work through feelings I didn’t dare tell anyone. I learned that once you start writing, it becomes a part of you. It’s something you always go back to whenever you are overwhelmed with certain emotions. People don’t always listen to your words, but the paper always listens to the pen.
the change of seasons within us.
our last days of winter were spent inhaling poetry, high on smoke and spice and a whole lot of s o u l, our lungs like hidden chambers filled with a breath of ashes, our hearts like hollow canyons filled with the echoes of prose we took a drag of every line and purged...
let’s make a place of our own.
the world keeps changing / in the blink of an eye / and we keep finding ourselves / in places we don’t fit / with people who don’t understand us / let’s run away / follow me / to where the river leads / stay with me / and we will make our home / at the water’s edge /...
Book Review – Dear Poet by Entirety J Roberts
In her first book of poetry, Dear Poet, Entirety J Roberts reaches out and speaks to the parts of us that we don't let others see. Each prayer calls out to the heart, delving into love and passion, darkness, hope. Ms Roberts gives readers a glimpse of herself with...
a recipe for winter.
ingredients: one december moon the burgundy-orange glow of a fiery hearth one tree decorated in lights two hours or more of uninterrupted time together a few gentle endings the promise of beginnings mix thoroughly with a whisper of wishes born under a star on a brumal...
leave and return, leave and return.
i am bending time, twisting fate and reason, holding out for something to believe in but this winter solitude only knows you — all cold logic and bitter truth that leaves me shivering, far from the arms of apricity i trade broken pieces of farewells for a chance at...
change will do us good.
we are all elegant fury and dismantled dreams we rage against a broken system, caged birds kept behind man-made borders we sought the gardens of tomorrow and found ourselves bound to the mistakes of yesterday, unwilling accomplices in the age of impostors and now, we...
i want to admire your truth.
i’ve always been fascinated by the kind of art others don’t appreciate, the poetry etched in haste on the bathroom stall, the graffiti scrawled on passing train cars i suppose i love the abstract, the undefined, the stuff we share thinking no one will notice (but...
rise and fly.
these sheets hold tightly to heavy bones i made my home in them while the sun rose and fell, wrapped myself up in this cocoon and waited for the night to drip stars from the sky i move within their light, escaping a skim of shadows by melding with the moon i tip toe...
this winter weather speaks to me.
the windows are open, cold air winding through, taking with it the last days of autumn and ushering in the arrival of the first snow blackbird is playing on the radio, the foo fighters version i was never a fan of the way the beatles sounded, but the lyrics are good...
you are the hope that steals my doubts.
you have always been one of those people who believe in rainbows and mythical dreams you live where coral skies meet cyan seas but me, i am i n c o m p l e t e my heart lingers under midnight skies my shadows still swim inside the storm -ashley jane