Kirstie Sivapalan
Yesterday I had that moment all aspiring writers have. "Why I am doing this? Am I even any good? Am I just indulging myself? Should I even bother sharing my work?" I allowed myself some time to reflect on this, to ask the question without a furious search for the right answer. Instead I remembered… Continue reading Composure
Our Modern life is full of Sabre-tooth tigers Warring of clans and poisonous spiders Dirty dank water and cavernous pits Furious fires and razor sharp cliffs Or so our brain thinks, accustomed to caution Hard wired to react, all out of proportion A disease of our time, a shameful admission Anxiety and stress that we… Continue reading Sabre tooth post-truth
Sadness is the colour blue. That shade of midnight. When the Sun has gone as deep as it can go and the faintest stars blaze like the strongest suns. Happiness is Yellow. Bright buttercup yellow. Like the swimming costume I wore when I was five playing in our paddling pool keeping cool in the heatwave… Continue reading Sadness is the colour blue
Normally I am Little Miss Hopeful, relentlessly optimistic about humanity and our future. Some days, days like the day I wrote the first "movement" of this poem, drops of despair and confusion trickle through and for a while it becomes that much harder to find the light. I wrote Wake after reading my morning news,… Continue reading Wake
Writing practice today comes to you from one of our local pubs. It is one of the hottest days this year and we humans are already out in celebratory force intercepting sought after seats in beer gardens and cafes across London. It looks like this weather took us all by surprise. Although why is a… Continue reading Sun signs
I have such an urge to write at the moment. The words are all clamouring for their audience and different ones want different platforms too. Some want to crawl out of the end of my pen and seep into my notebook, some want to fly out and take nest in its pages. Some are more… Continue reading Stories to tell
She is free Once demonised and displaced Her mantle being rebuilt Once strangled and silenced Her roar being released Once patted and preened Her body finding her own grace Once ignored and flattened Her place standing tall and strong Once subjected and bruised Her protection being offered to all Once scared and confused Her spirit… Continue reading Lilith returns to Eve
Writing and M.E. 