The matter
Energy
Condensed
I often think
Can't be fixed
Can't be true
Like
If you moved
Too suddenly
Bits
Would fall
Off of you
Catch physics
Off guard
And nature
Falls apart
And once
We all see it
Everyone
Disintrigates
Hard.

Someone once asked me,
“What did you do
to become a poetess?”

I said,"nothing.
I only broke the dam of emotions
I had built over the years.

The flood of emotions
themselves turned
into poems
and I became
a poetess."
(I have my doubts)

Standing with Marshal Gebbie

No trumpet sounds.  
No banner bleeds.  
Just the quiet hum  
of satellites watching  
what we dare not name.

Power does not sleep,
it drips  
from trade routes,  
from whispered sanctions,  
from the tremble  
of a diplomat’s hand  
hovering over the red phone.

We are not at war,  
but we rehearse it  
in algorithms,  
in tariffs,  
in the way maps  
shrink and swell  
without consent.

The empire is hungover,  
but still it walks,
barefoot through proxy fields,  
cloaked in plausible deniability.

And we,  
the breathers between borders,  
write poems  
on the backs of embargoes,  
sing lullabies  
in contested airspace,  
and pray  
that silence  
is not mistaken  
for surrender.

Speak softly my love,
For my mind aches and grinds,
If you listen close you'll hear my gears whine.

I am tired of thinking for my own,
I'd rather just believe.

Watch as I fall to my knees,
Dripping my blood into the fountain,
I pushed so far,
To fall back again.

These ideas are tiring,
So I'll believe yours.
It's too hard to make people understand,
When I am the one thinker in a barren land.
How is it that the one idea you preach,
Is right against all odds.

Wonder round the back
Have a look
What you think we lack?
Years of lacklustre
Maintainence
Leave
Crumbling
Ramparts
Open
To
Attack.