Kirstie Sivapalan
Image reads: Mission 2021: If my liberty means the incarceration of others, I am not free. If my prosperity means the poverty of others, I have no riches. If my success means the failure of others, I have not achieved. If my wellbeing means the sickness of others, I cannot heal. Until we are all… Continue reading Mission 2021
I am going through some old poems and revising a few, which is as much as I can muster right now mid-relapse. I wrote this one two years ago when I thought I was having a bad day. Perspective can be a wonderful thing and it can also be brutal as I look back today… Continue reading Ode to a Bad Day #2
Without realising I seem to have been preparing my second poetry collection. I haven't published my first yet but all the advice I have read or heard about writing encourages us to keep going and keep creating. The theme of my second collection will be Hope, following on from the first, Crisis. This poem, written… Continue reading Our Hopes for You
It hurts to move, to disappoint the ones you love I am with you. There is pain in your eyes, as you leave your friends behind I am with you. There is a lump in your throat, as you watch it fade away I am with you. There is hope in your heart that it will… Continue reading Life as of 31st January 2020 (I am with you)
I wonder if it is born from Death – hope? Decay that falls back into the deepStripped down to whirring electrons, to the echo of life before retaining one thing, and is that thing – hope? not the seed but the thought of the seed,the breath, no the mere idea of the breathof its existence, and… Continue reading Hope’s Spring
For the Youtube version please click here. My latest poem, below, which follows on from my most recent post, is a reflection on the messages we receive every day about who we should be and what we should value - money, fame, power, success. All of these messages, and the constant bombardment of such, can… Continue reading Your beauty radiates.
No poem or funny story for you. Just some thoughts and a plan... It's been a difficult week Less By Thursday the combination of the confirmation of that individual as leader of the Conservative Party, which supposedly makes him my PM, the way above average or even peak temperature that day and M.E symptoms were… Continue reading Only love
Can you ever stop your heart leaping up, painting right into the corners of a future not here? That may never be. Could never be. Yet the heart has already vanished over a golden horizon - titles up, audience jump to their feet applauding the textured script, the wonder of realised vision. Except nothing, not… Continue reading Heart beat
The day was still. She felt like time, had frozen, the moment it happened. Nothing mattered anymore; her heart, her blood, her breath would be a constant effort hereon in. Life had stopped, and she with it. She could walk around that Moment and examine it from all its angles – the bed, the face… Continue reading One. Two
Something died inside me, as the year turned towards night Someone, not really a thing, a person to be, vacated Slipping back into the mist Leaving me empty and silent I walk through his room, feeling for a presence And hope an image remains, a ghost, or a memory Finding nothing but echoes Repeating back… Continue reading Situation vacant
Writing and M.E. 