A poem for Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe, a British-Iranian woman jailed in Iran. Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson's comments as well as UK-US impact on Iran in 1953 sealed her fate.
My heart is beating out of my chest, the only thing to do is match my steps. I had given up running for a few years but was back at it with a vengeance.
i felt a throbbing ache in my chest last fall after counting heartthrobs and ribs after eating my weight in chips i sigh at last and the doctor i call she asks if i've been outside lately before sunsets and rainstorms before ravens pick out lost worms she smiles and waves me out gently stomach... Continue Reading →
Restless and anxious, I come back home. Meaning, I sit back down with my laptop to write you a short story.The days are still dark now in February, one storm after the other blowing through the UK and my mind. Dark days indeed I think, scrolling through twitter: adults attacking a teen climate fighter, hate... Continue Reading →
Long before mental health became a hot topic, desperate souls were said to be going through the dark night of the soul.
Close my eyes Grey hell alive Roots in the sky Asking why, oh why? Open my eyes Green bells survive Wind so harsh and dry Whispering sight, oh my Stretch my legs Oh how they strive For trees in lakes high Howling tongue-tied Raise my fist Rebel for life Awake now, people stand-by Hear my... Continue Reading →
I started a blog to write my little heart out about all the topics I care about, but that turns about to be quiet a few. Not only have I read all the SEO guides I could find and am still none the wiser, but it seems that diversifying topics is the #1 mistake new... Continue Reading →
You are my prophecyYour echo resides in my chestBreathing now a prayerAbstinence my crest You are my prophecyAmid my sins you know me bestBathe me young layer by layerSing of tomorrow, put me to rest You are my prophecyA faith to call home at my bequestOf darkness only my slayerFrom skin to bone I am... Continue Reading →
Good and badThat's how evil thinksTalk of virtueWatch their hearts sink Fifty shades of self-denialNoses crossing over shadowsMessiahs turning in their gravesseeing their followers new clothes Speak not of love to deny itShow me no grace if ever flauntedTil death do us part, I spit on youI rather have my lonely home haunted