Tuscany
Poetry
I gaze at the azure sky of some Tuscan cathedral – dissolving in the colossus of what has been
Darkness discloses – what?
Poetry
Darkness discloses – what? Reams and reams of nothing, which cannot be quantified.
Smoke.
Poetry
I think we were his ghosts, Pulling up at the pub he never opened, While the car radio played the news. Smoke. It was just a pit stop along the highway - a
1 min read
man, young, finds himself on holiday
Poetry
at the borrowdale inn • in search of munros • ocean eyes
this is my hand
Poetry
Oh my sweetest deity / You make me want things / I want to be a good person / A whole person
Time
Poetry
Everyone has their own clock, but no one can really see or knows when the clock will stop for them. Some don’t even want to know when their clock will stop, happily living in ignorance as those around them watch their seconds fly by them.
18th
Poetry
my grandfather’s arms were the first street I grew up on / parallel and stretched out / ready for me to run into
An Evening with Penelope Mint
Events
Pull your fanciest gown from the closet, pour yourself a drink and join us for 'An Evening with Penelope Mint': a virtual night of thoughts, poetry, stories and music
C.H.R.Y.S.A.L.I.S
Poetry
All covered up in a brown nest I learned to call a “chrysalis” / And I could spell it too: C.H.R.Y.S.A.L.I.S. / And she told me that patience had power, That the caterpillar in the chrysalis would turn to goo and then into a butterfly. And all I had to do was wait.
2 min read
These Times Are Strange: A Collective Poem
Video
Some weeks ago, we asked for your help writing a poem that could capture all the uncertainty, incredulity and "strangeness" of the past 6 months. Introducing These Times Are Strange: A Collective Poem!
Hello, it's me again.
Poetry
I’m missing out on autumn / Taking a break from the leaves / A pause on my emotions. But I know when the sun comes up / They’ll just come rolling in on their tandem bicycle.
3PM
Poetry
Here: 3PM / & lonely stinging nettle / gathers grossly at my ankles, taking them for a quick bath
A Body in a Borrowed Shirt
Poetry
I’m wearing a borrowed shirt / and I’ve stained it with a dish I call / “curry adjacent”
1 min read
Homebody
Video
"Solace" sounds better than "solitude", I think, and "rhythm" sounds better than "rut".
1 min read
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