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Tanisha Jackland May 2018
Io ti trovo / come se tu fossi dovunque /
in ognuno io ti vedo / io sono il seme /
tu sei il vento.

I keep finding you
as if you are everywhere
in everyone I see you
I am the seed
You are the wind
This wonderful italian guy translated this piece for me. He said it moved him so.  Dear to my heart, now.
Tanisha Jackland May 2018
I am as predictable
as the wind
with its current
drifting me alongside its
great passage

I am in no hurry
I just got here
and plan to stay  
for awhile

listening to the music
of the wind
sing so soft and sweet
as though the pain
of being unheard
was just too much

I exist here
loved and lonely
like the wind
but embodied
until it decides
to capture me again
LISTENING TO YOUR FAVOURITE PIECE OF MUSIC

Oh you were so
quiet

I hardly heard you
tiptoe silently in

settle yourself
amongst the strings

talking to me
now in cello
now in violin

the heartbeat of a drum

the exchange of laughter
between glockenspiel & xylophone

making a point
with either

the tiny ******
of a triangle

or the crash of a symbol.

I listen to you talk
to me in music

the candlelight
grows dim & then

as softly as you came

you leave

leaves

(fluttering against
the windowpane) .

I feel you leave
leave before the movement ends

footsteps
in the silence of my memory

me nearly

forgetting

that you've died

listening on
until the end

as the music

cries.
you have
ever been the song
of my pinwheels.
the clotted comb of my cosmic hive;
all honey, one queen.
teeming with sun-dance.
and sodden with all my lack
of misery.

you
have ever been a temple
of Love.

and it's secret
identity.

everything i need
impending.

all at once
Tanisha Jackland May 2018
Here I am again
in the thrush of
falling apart again
I don't want to leave
my body another time
It's so cold over there
the chains heavier
and seldom unseen
everyone pretends in freedom
but all of them scared
they see
their eyes
see the horror
they feel the doom
there we are all encumbered
Please I don't want to go there again
Please
Not again
Enough said.
O
the sable eyes
of the twisted
                             thing
O
there are so many days
O
leaves brush ur skullcap
jewels
wishing beside the  lake
overlooking atoms
                                twisting
&
I think
as artists
we owe a lot to pain.

Put on
a robe of thorns
and write

about the nice weather outside
and that delicious burger
you had today.

Write about happiness
when you're in pain-
beauty.
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