There have always been difficult times in which humans must find a way to navigate the choppy waters of despair while immersed in the middle of some natural or human made disaster of such enormity that one cannot hear beyond the noise of hopelessness and…

A Prescription For Poetry A twenty minute interlude To just sit and read, Poems for the broken hearted, the sick and ill, Those just plain broken. Old and new, well-read and unknown, Long, short and those in-between. There is a poem here for everyone. These…

  Hello? Are you there? Do you know what happened? Do you blame me? Is it nice where you’ve gone? Were the others there to greet you? Is the snowfall still peaceful, and the night jeweled with stars? Can you still hear the symphony in…

I cling to mountain rock weary from fruitless migration. Wind tussles my feathers, bids me unwelcome. Ancient oak whispers of wisdom, promises peace. Coquettish waves push and pull, winking an invitation. I release my talons and dive into the open air. I seek guidance in…

She’s in a room, in a solace that one have never seen.   The sun stretched its golden arms across the plains saying “She’s coming”. My heart had been skipping around in my chest when I saw her eyes naked. I have prayed from sunrise…

not Indigenous enough! DONT don’t speak ancestry language don’t have dark hair don’t have the right coloured skin don’t know about culture not Indigenous enough! YOU you white women you shouldn’t wear that you shouldn’t be here you pretendian not Indigenous enough! LISTEN listen for…

When I look at void It looks back at me.. — No, that’s actually abyss Oh right! When I look into abyss It looks back at me Then I get tired So I shout into it — Um… that’s the void What’s the void? —…

All alone. Time to reflect. To clear out thoughts. Negative thoughts. Thoughts of despair. Unwanted thoughts. Why are these thoughts? Where do they from? Why do they always? Alone time. Time for processing. Of events, both current and past. Time to work out the mind….

The child was as small as a teacup Thats what her mother had said, And she knew it The drone hovered above her Ever watching And she could feel it Motionless, determined The child remained seated while the crowd approached And she could see them…

after Diana Khoi Nguyen The past drapes about us like a cloak heavy, miring us down to the ground the body with its own mind, separate from the mind with which I think I think the body keeping the score I am just starting to…