Blog Archives

Walk in Beauty- a poem by Victoria Crawford

28/3/2019

Walk in Beauty

Diabetic feet nerveless,
infirmity of stroke’s zero sum,
earth textures unfelt though walked,
hear the dark dog panting loss,
know the tiger without symmetry.

With beauty around me, I walk,
says the Navajo Blessing Way
prayer to restore parts
to wholeness like tangerine
fragments returned to a sphere.

Concentration follows steps
pacing in beauty, nothing
hinders movement;
muscle memory grants
the mind freedom of focus,
taken for granted until,
feet go blind.

beauty is on every side,
through the returning seasons,
may I walk.

I watch my moving feet
closely for heal-toe slow dance
across the floor of mindfulness
as I learn again to advance
in the Blessing Way.

Today, I will walk the trail
of the living room
with beauty, living again,
may I walk.

(Victoria Crawford shares a journey in stroke recovery of learning to walk with mindfulness, reading stories she knew as a child for reading, and then the joys of poetry as she re-learned the magic of words.)

0 Comments

The Bread Shop- a poem by Vivien Yap

21/3/2019

1 Comment

The Bread Shop

When I was 11, I couldn’t go to school
because there were voices in my head
that I thought were ghosts
calling for me to join them.

I was afraid of falling asleep
but my aunt told me,
to dream of one place that nothing
could hurt me.

So before I slept,
I thought of a bread shop.
Everything washed in a sunny shade
of egg.

That same year my mother wouldn’t talk to me
because she couldn’t hear what I heard
and wrote my fear into belligerence,
beat me into submission.

So I sat by the old landline
and called my father,
wishing someone would come home
to save me from me.

But when I was 12,
I watched my father move his things
out of the house and I should have cried
but the man never came back, so I didn’t.

Now I am 23 and I don’t believe in ghosts anymore.

The voices still talk to me, but they all sound the same.

Still I keep dreaming of a better place,
sometimes a bread shop,
sometimes a house with a hundred rooms,
sometimes a boy lying on the same bed,
sometimes the same boy driving us far, far away,
sometimes a table with 4 seats filled in,
sometimes of things shaped like cigarettes that keep me smiling.

Sometimes I dream myself out of my own body.
Maybe I would have somebody.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to be me.

(Vivien Yap is a writer and musician from Singapore. Growing up a quiet girl with loud thoughts, Vivien has learnt to let her writing carry the weight of a suppressed youth.
Vivien’s book ‘Can You Hear Me Now?’ is now available for purchase online. Website: http://vivienywq.wixsite.com/creativesFacebook:www.fb.com/buttlicksInstagram: www.instagram.com/buttlicks)

1 Comment

Two poems- by Ahmad Al-Khatat

14/3/2019

0 Comments

Burn My Heart

Burn my heart
there is nobody
to judge you
Burn my heart
pour your love
over the flames
Burn my heart
I would choose
you to die with
Burn my heart
when sensation
arises on the way
Burn my heart
and colour my
ashes with tears
Burn my heart
and dance with
my name in your mind
Burn my heart
and lie about us
flying to paradise
Burn my heart
take the last train
to the hell situation
Burn my heart
and remember
you are a woman

Kills

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It never stops flooding
and extends to my flesh

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It appears from the shadow
of the sun behind the rain

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the stranger who dies
after chasing the fireflies

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
when the barefoot soldiers
bombed the house of dreams

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the stone who breaks the
mirror of the river to the moon

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the wheelchair who will
never take me to your doors

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
when the world was young,
I was the oldest seed in spring

What kills you everyday
kills me every other night
It is the blind who walked to
the wolves until they ate him

(Ahmad Al-Khatat, was born in Baghdad, Iraq on May 8th. He has been published in several press publications and anthologies all over the world and has poems translated in several languages. He has published two poetry books “The Bleeding Heart Poet” and “Love On The War’s Frontline” which are available on Amazon. Most of his new and old poems are also available on his official page Bleeding Heart Poet on Facebook.)

0 Comments

Escape- a poem by Amit Parmessur

7/3/2019

0 Comments

Escape
— A Le Morne Brabant Mountain legend

As the rustling of British officers
is heard anew, the maroons gasp among
tied boulders on the windy cliff. Their dreams
freeze; Death beckons at The Valley of Bones*.

Five of them, like golden raindrops, shower
to clinch it. Death shines brighter. The other
maroons, shocked, take a step back. The leader
whispers assurance—but the British are

heard louder. The bondage swells in their raw
bosom. The cold sunset drenches the spot
with solid, red rays. These scarred maroons are
unaware that the officers bear the

news of their freedom. Hearts pulverised, they
all join hands to shower too. Their shouts soon
rend the air, seeming bold and free, blissful
and final—only for their freed souls to

learn later that they have left free bodies.
What is more tragic than runaway slaves
in rugged rags jumping off the shiny
threshold of freedom without leaving one

alphabet of their names along the wind?
What is more tragic than slaves with babies
in their bellies hitting the basalt hard,
with the echoes heard over the pink sea?

*] legendary name of the spot into which the maroons leapt

( Amit Parmessur is a poet and teacher. His writing has appeared in several magazines, namely WINK, The Rye Whiskey Review, Night Garden Journal, Ann Arbor Review and Ethos Literary Journal. He loves to pick off past experiences and turn them over in the light. Nowadays, he edits The Pangolin Review.)

0 Comments

Walk in Beauty- a poem by Victoria Crawford

The Bread Shop- a poem by Vivien Yap

Two poems- by Ahmad Al-Khatat

Escape- a poem by Amit Parmessur

The Beautiful Space-
A Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry.

Archives

Categories

Walk in Beauty- a poem by Victoria Crawford

The Bread Shop- a poem by Vivien Yap

Two poems- by Ahmad Al-Khatat

Escape- a poem by Amit Parmessur

The Beautiful Space-​A Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry.

Archives

Categories

The Beautiful Space-
A Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry.