Category Archives: poetry

A poem for the Paschal Moon

Posted on by inktuition
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A show-off moon looms loud above,

eager, serene and yellow with love.

The moon this year is bigger than most.

It makes me reflect on my unfulfilled ghost.

It stops my tracks, makes me stand in awe

at its light, its bright, its symbolic draw.

Not just your everyday, every-month moon,

the Paschal is rounder and makes me attune

to the wonder of nature, a great work of art,

to the bigger forces surrounding my heart.

Am I true to the light, the generous gaze

of her majestic roundness, her heavenly hurrahs?

Take time to rhyme on World Poetry Day

Posted on by inktuition
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If you’re thinking of taking a pen

To explore your innermost thoughts

Then today’s the day to do it:

It’ll help unravel your knots.

The UN’s World Poetry Day

Is a chance to feel what’s real

In the deepest darkest depths

Of your starkest startling dreams.

Whether rage takes hold in angry red

Or the blues cry over the page

Trust what comes, let it all spill out:

Free your soul from its strangled cage.

Poem: The Creative Escapee

Posted on by inktuition
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Your boss is always right, she says,

As she wields a pen of heavy red

That bites and wounds my worried words,

And my former self-belief goes blurred.

 

Your boss is always right, she mouths,

As my typo sends her humour south.

I hang my head, gut full of shame,

Have all my creative leaps gone lame?

 

Your boss is always right, she shouts,

As my brain cells begin to cower in doubt:

Is my work that flat, that nondescript,

Does her critique always have to be sour-lipped?

 

Your boss is always right, she yells,

As I reflect upon this straitjacket hell

Of rigid rules, of constant digs.

A model of how you can’t forgive.

 

Your boss is always right, she screams

Hysteria’s norm? That’s what it seems.

A dumbed-down doer is all she wants,

But there’s more to me than a size-12 font.

 

I may type your amends

With intentions well meant

But you can’t reach the real me

‘Cos I’m a Creative Escapee.

 

So yes, the boss is always right

But the red pen certainly doesn’t delight.

What rules my world is being in sync

With my authentic guide of true-self ink.

I Am Enough: a poem to fight feeling ‘less than’

Posted on by inktuition
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When somebody makes me feel less than,

Says I’m too much can’t, not enough can,

There’s a fear that jellies my thighs,

And my heartbeats double their size.

 

My essence of soul gets lost

As my fingertips turn to frost.

And I scrabble to save my self-esteem

As it’s chased by monsters in my dreams.

 

My sense of self loses all its shape,

My presence shrivels like a sad old grape.

As I creep away, full of blame and gall,

The shivers of shame make my skin cells crawl.

 

I feel nothing of worth, my confidence kicked,

My value rusted, my optimism pricked.

I retreat to a cave, all dark and dank,

Knowing I’ve only got myself to thank.

 

But at my core there’s a flicker of flame.

Really, this time, is it same again?

Will I let them all tread

On my bowed, mournful head?

Or will I rise from the wreck of this feel-sorry stuff

And say to the world: “I am enough!”