Hot heat simmers from the lines on my palms
I breathe in the pain, the fire, the steam
Exhaling comfort, I extend out my arms
I’m here
Bonded together in the rain
We raise our hearts to the black tar sky
A hum, a glow, under our furrowed brows
It comes in waves
A beaten rhythm of protests past
Not alone, we cry
Hope. Carried over oceans with a sigh
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Have been feeling a lot of ocean imagery this month in all my creative writing, here’s a teeny snippet. Photo credit @sergeebee
Ria Xx
I. Write
Tell tales of a Brave New World
less damaged than our own
fragmented universe
Or else, allow us to escape
into a tangled narrative of imagination
II. Fight
Like a girl. Like a boy. Like them.
Like you, for them
Bite bullets with a passion so loud
it seals your imperfect skin
from the burn of a thousand suns
III. Rise
among the voices.
Among the trauma, the hurt,
the gut wrenching loss
Together we a stronger,
but you must first feel the call
Can you hear now?
IV. Rinse, clean
And repeat.
– R. Cagampang (5.1.17)
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A little ditty inspired by my personal feminist work ethic for the coming year. Enjoy.
Ria Xx
My inner adventurer loves to climb.
Trees, cliff tops, mountains.
She swims oceans , circles coastlines.
The stars guide her way.
‘No need for maps’ she proclaims.
Conquering Everest is all in a day’s work.
She has mastered the Incan trail, battled through forests and desert storms
(She has the battle scars to prove it)
Language proves no barrier to her excitement
Connection fuels her, intrigue is infectious
Dancing in the shadows of the rialto,
Singing alongside buskers in the rain
Jumping into the clear blue with sailors
My inner adventurer has seen the Seven Wonders
And yet the horizon line never fails to take her breath away
She stands in awe of towering cities, overhanging trees and endless canyons
This tiny planet holds so much promise, so much beauty to comprehend
My inner adventurer has not surfaced just yet
But maybe, someday, she’ll be brave enough to try.