with a feline anchoring the sheet corner its body radiating warmth to my feet I traced the outline of the ceiling tray with my eyes aware of the sound of the shower running and the pulse of raindrops on the roof water, water everywhere my senses become engulfed the ceiling breathes and ripples I watch it until it stops its matter forms then solidifies the chimes ring outside like bells tolling for attention I listen eyes glazed and the walls breathe with a ripple effect, feeling the wave swell and crest then spilling over into the trough, a tumbled depth aware of stillness and infinite quiet a lightness sensation bobbing floating, lifting into tingles the bells ring again I peer through the ripples and see a man, he says are you getting up?
Deb this is like looking in the window at you as you languidly snuck that extra few minutes of rest while your lover had his shower. Feel kinda like a perv but that is only because your descriptions are so crisp and lifelike and real. Great write.
Hugs
Fee
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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Blessings,
Joyce Bowling
Hugs
Fee
Love,
Eileen
Dan
Been there done that!!
Love Tinka:)