Mapping adventure

Eyes wander over

outspread maps: feet will follow-

adventure beckons!



‘Still I Rise’ by Maya Angelou

Such a strong lady and inspiring poet!

‘Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high’
– Maya Angelou (1928-2014).

A poem for every day

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it…

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Shift, escape

Fingers hover over scattered words, unformed,

you stare at the blank screen replete

with intentions and conversations

that you’d mulled over and dreamed

before you got to this point

where you hope your thoughts

would be slightly less muddled

and disjointed – disappointed to find

that screen-to-screen, face-to-face,

it kind of makes no difference,

the problem’s in your mind,

not the space where you try to express it.

The fingers wait to be ignited and

anointed with signification, to strike up

a relation over electric-charged voids

not heeding the hesitation you’ve conjured

in your own head, not wanting the contents

of your brain to be spilt onto a page,

to stain with ink or typed out lines

only to be read by outside eyes.

You close the window,

you avert your gaze,

step away from the blank spaces

That you’ve lost control of,

you shift, contemplate return: