Category Archives

Archive of posts published in the category: poetry

words come

i read the wind. the words color me in shades of scented gardenias. the words take to the clouds, and write their sex song. i am churned by the scent of ecstasy. my yoni rises to meet you in between the rough sentences.…

the cauldron

the moon waits for me. i become the terpsichorean, naked, fragile, unclothed in darkness. my hips are my cauldron. i stir. i stir for the babies not yet conceived. i stir for love and longing. i stir for survival. i wait for the…

the lonely road

The poem below by Frost is the life I’ve always lived, the road less traveled. It keeps me sane, even as it sometimes leaves me lonely in this world. Most times, lonely in a room filled with people. The Road Not Taken by…

blue world

I won’t be saved by you. Only the sky can save me from this blue world wondering how it came to be.

i will go now

I read this piece by Yeats recently and it struck a cord. The Lake Isle of Innisfree W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939 I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles…

time chain

The days meld into each other. Each one a link in a chain. The chain slowly reaching into the distance. This is our lives, each day a link creating a chain spanning miles of existence.

iniquities of gods

I walk the dusty road of false time, seeking angels with broken wings. Only they know my sorrow and how unforgiving the gods can be. I don’t need their lives vicariously, my window is the same, yet I have no wings. I see…


phallic symbols tiptoe through mind intimate portraits of ebony gods standing on thoughts naked on my embryo filled stomach kissing me licking me stroking me mountains of desire entering my valley of ecstasy lifting me mounting me arching my back in need of…

park benches

Photograph by zaji, April 19, 2016 the park benches wait for children. lonely and longing for the weekend fraught with giggles and bruised knees, they wait for light and dark to revolution less than six times. that is all it will take to…

it ends (an eintou)

in time we all forget. we sink into darkness. heartbeats can’t find their way back home. the notes are out of tune; i know this dance. it ends. © zaji, 2016 Like this:Like Loading…

it ends (an eintou) was originally published on zaji

it ends (an eintou) was originally published on zaji


Undulating within dark words reaching for dying stars. Nubian night finds us inventing stories of our beginnings. Ichor is there for drink, if you want, if you dare. Venus is just up ahead, a little to the left and on ’til dusk. Endings…

a haiku for death

Death Haiku the last exhale leaves. oblivion comes too quick. will darkness find light?

a haiku for water

Haiku for Water liquid love fills seas my womb hosts life in oceans in birth, swim towards light

a haiku for the night-blooming cereus

Below are pictures I took of a Night-Blooming Cereus my mother has in a giant pot by the pool. All day the buds stay tightly closed, unmoved by the sun. As the sky turns gray, yellow, then red, the bud begins to slowly move, yawning to welcome the night. No sooner than the stars begin…

a haiku for the night-blooming cereus was originally published on zaji

a haiku for the night-blooming cereus was originally published on zaji

a haiku for earth

Haiku for Earth Earth once talked to sky Sky then whispered to the wind The wind cried rivers

galaxy luggage

Writing Prompt: Suitcase Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. galaxy luggage found travel stickers across the milky way. my suitcase has seen Jupiter and Saturn. winged feet prefer clouds doubling as stones to take me across stars flowing like waters. i skip across clouds white and emptiness. planet hopping is free.…

galaxy luggage was originally published on zaji

galaxy luggage was originally published on zaji

fire in the caves

There is fire in the caves. Defiant flames stretch across indocile walls. The cold stones can bear the relentless heat. But can they bear the stories? There is fire in the caves. Fire burned alien symbols into cave ceilings. Their meaning has long…

orange peel waters (unedited)

Orange peel tea drinks me instead. It tastes my waters, then pours into me without bitterness. Remember wasted life. The water is unclear, it is orange oceans flowing back to shore. Orange peel waters hide lonely tears. Remember wasted time. This is not…

a world upside out

I am revisiting this piece which I wrote a very long time ago. At the time I’d been reading quite a bit of Shel Silverstein’s children’s poems and shortly after discovered his story, The Giving Tree. I was most enthralled with his poetry…

paper, voice, spaces: a tritina for nena

I was challenged by my friend, Nena, to write a tritina. This is my first one. Ink black and bleeding onto white paper Words want to find the lost white spaces Black blood-ink attempts to stifle my raging voice But inside these words…

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