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
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
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
I won’t be saved by you. Only the sky can save me from this blue world wondering how it came to be.
I read this piece by Yeats recently and it struck a cord. The Lake Isle of Innisfree W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939 I will
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
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.
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
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
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…
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,
Death Haiku the last exhale leaves. oblivion comes too quick. will darkness find light?
Haiku for Water liquid love fills seas my womb hosts life in oceans in birth, swim towards light
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…
Haiku for Earth Earth once talked to sky Sky then whispered to the wind The wind cried rivers
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.…
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
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
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
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