In Morning

He sits upon the fence and watches, proud chest puffed in morning ceremony. He watches the breeze flit between the leaves and fallen debris, skittering across the blades of grass speckled with midnight dew.   He watches me and you, the cat too. A robin red breast Poppins would say has very little time to … Continue reading In Morning

Call for submissions- Olive Skins

A new opportunity for you to submit your work to ❤


First of all, I would like to extend my gratitude to all my genuine followers who have supported my work in the best possible way over the years and so now I am thrilled to announce that my dear friend Kristiana and I are soon going to start our own collective OLIVE SKINS which is scheduled for June end. This collective will be a collection of all the brave voices out there which often go unheard by others. The aim is to take submissions about mental health, pain, abstract poems, and fiction.

Ink your beautiful words, surreal poetry, prose and fiction through our email. We want raw poetry, no same old cliched romance poetry, if you want to be romantic, show us that in your fierce style! The collective shall be themed base.


Submit your best work, no rhyming poetry, please. We will not accept anything which doesn’t enthrall…

View original post 115 more words


A bird hovers above the pocket of air beneath its wings: time ends and begins, Death rattles and babies cry, buds split open and the Hellebores fails to bloom, we kiss, we wave, hello and goodbye. The bird dives on a breath, exhaling in the wind: all things end and we begin.   © Kristiana … Continue reading Begin


One by the sea, each new tide bringing in another childhood memory, one up North, where every second of sunlight feels more precious and beautiful than anywhere else in the world, one in Italy, the capital city which revels in its antiquity, and one right here, a space finally big enough for me, my daydreams … Continue reading ‘Happy’

Advance Review of Between the Trees, Kindra M. Austin

“My reflection in the train window settles/between the trees/beyond the glass/lining the field of gold.” In itself, the opening of the title poem speaks of forlorn reluctance, wishes, and wonders. It must be because there’s something so powerful and intimate about one’s reflection; we study ourselves and pick up every nuance, whether we want to … Continue reading Advance Review of Between the Trees, Kindra M. Austin