A Bigger Picture

A Bigger Picture

We measure space as the distance between two objects;

destinations, travel time, our indecisive minds.

In the middle exists inertia’s shelved life –

TV screens and celebrity magazines

injecting the senses with anti-ageing regimes

till every self-love drugs test comes back clean.

When did we turn numb to natural beauty,

who decided we are done with the inbetween?

This Earth is crying for our attention

neglected more as years pass by,

it broke the sky to give us thunder and lightening

but we all just stayed inside, texting loved ones

with apologies for the minutes we had been away

and blaming the storm for poor phone signal.

We think this planet owes us a cloudless day

like it hasn’t already sacrificed its riches;

how could the rain be so selfish?

Underneath Your Sleeve Sketches

Underneath Your Sleeve Sketches

I’m close to running out of words

but since you always preferred pictures

I will write this last one as an image,

bold colours painted on canvas

to accentuate the meaning you have only partly heard.

Brush strokes form curves that protect from your sharp edges,

you were a paper cut borrowing my blood,

spreading stained fingerprints across soaked skin

and calling it fine art, calling it love.