Kirstie Sivapalan
Burning brightly, joyously. Solidly. Creating life-force and essential fire, until it falls - Shadow Only glimmers struggle to stay Reminders of what lies behind The shadow sits, weighty and cold Dense and obstinate, refusing to leave It stifles and suppresses its enemy - Light For a while it wins. All that once shone removed Pain.… Continue reading The eclipse
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 decided to have a social media cleanse. One morning this week I found myself scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed and in a moment of clarity realised that I had no conscious clue how I had got there. I stopped, closed the app and went about my chores for the day seemingly productively distracted.… Continue reading Social Re-Construction
If you have had a miscarriage, still-birth or lost a child very young, you might find yourself wondering what their life would have been like. You might mark their birthdays or the anniversary of their departure from this world, or daydream about what they might have done or experienced. As for me, I did not,… Continue reading The Girl That Never Was
"I have conversed with the Spiritual Sun, I saw him on Primrose Hill" William Blake It was one of those days today where the clouds are low and almost impenetrable, both at times gloomy and glum. The trees looked more like stone statues than living beings, placed on top of a ground that was hard… Continue reading The Hope of Winter
They are our light, our shadow and all the shades in between Those same yet different faces, with all our hopes and dreams We are one, yet we grow distant staring at our own Sun We prick, we burn and turn against that someone We shout and protest and find ways to be free But… Continue reading Faces
New Year, new year's resolutions, and waiting until the New Year to make wide sweeping changes; our own cultural way of wiping the slate clean and starting over. The big outbreath of letting go of the old and embracing the new. Our chance to reinvent ourselves, to learn from our past experiences and try again.… Continue reading Resolute
After an incredible and lively party on Halloween, enjoyed by both people and energetic beings alike, we have focused on the themes of regeneration and renewal. Samhain, the pagan ritual from which we take most of our Halloween hullabaloo, denoted Summer's End and a time to honour the ancestors, reflect upon life and death and… Continue reading Wave Goodbye, Say Hello
Writing and M.E. 