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I am a poet, and storyteller.
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LATEST POSTS
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into the corporate black
All of my so-called colleagues are full-time blocked, Their status proudly carols – how busy they are! They’re cold desked now attending all day meetings, Thralled indivisibly to colleagues both here and far.
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To the grief keepers and compassionistas
All around us the beauty that was is being leeched and swept away. Our poets are shot, nurses murdered, children kidnapped, all around us their night extends into day.
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The Interactive Hand-Written Letter
Christmas Day my sister stopped everything with the rustle of paper. We all stopped eating waiting to find out what she was up to.
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Why I Won’t Take This Role (My Job Non-Application)
Recently a previous role’s contract expired and now has been readvertised. This is why I won’t be applying.
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on grief : a meditation for Renee Good
Shouldn’t there be a persons who should not have died hotline? An anonymous number tocall and complain about a loved one’s loss?Or better yet preemptively a web site? Where you fill out a form detailing their conditionand the ideal prescription you’ll never see?Presuming of course that you’re the only oneWho can decide if they live
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the beauty of pain
There’s an eternal beauty in pain,A pre ordination of fate and singularity,That of an already known familiarity.Depth, breadth, length-measured once again.One can easily transcribe the ongoing extermination,Shadowed lines of a heart once kept,Bruises unseen tears still to be wept,Unbeknown lesions on a x-ray – a final ablution.Once passed pain lives on unknowingly,A silenced hurt now
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