Sequoia1967.

It’s Backstreet Boys month!!

The 4th- the scent of rain on verdance breathing through the window; overcast, grey, abundant green, a fresh, cool, earthy breeze

The 5th- new resolve, kindling, slow; the bitter-yellow taste of the lemon slice left saturating in my water; the intense, mouth-watering green chilli and garlic scent of the Heck green sausages

The sublime, arresting burst of electric pink…

The 1st- Beltane

With and in all my senses, appreciating and knowing nature’s majesty, the essence of life

Magick is everywhere

The 8th- Bluebells and blush blossoms

A beautiful walk in the drizzle, drinking in the scents and colour around- perfect temperature too, pleasant warm and damp

Drizzle kissing skin and hair

This glorious, light grey, damp Spring day

Cool, even cold early-May days

Cinnam…

The 2nd- A calm, rainy morning, muted white-grey; enjoying this sensory moment snuggled under the duvet

The quilted trees, strikingly contrasted against grey skies

The visual tasting-plate of painted leaves and embroidered blossoms

Buds blinking, turning infant leaves

The 4th- True to nature, so far; April showers

The delicious aroma of raw red onions, mushrooms and red peppers, a perfect synergy

Dismembered: Exclusion And Colourism, Being British South Asian

Last Saturday morning, the 4th May, I had an encounter that disturbed me profoundly. The previous evening, I had seen a post from a page I follow, via an Instagram story, showing details of a new, inclusive, sex and body-positive page aimed at women of South Asian heritage. I felt really excited by this news- I’d always wanted to participate in something of this nature and, based on what I’d…

The usual comment about the innately destructive comparison culture perpetuated by society through the media, especially social media- I want, in this instance, however, to bring this conversation to a personal level, about my experiences so far as a writer, a poet (although I gag supremely at this label where it applies to me, so I rarely use it).

No matter how much you fundamentally know that,…

The 1st- seeing at least five people- separate from each other, within a short space of time, in various directions on our road- carrying flower bunches

Fat, gnarled croissants, like witchy winklepickers

A fat croissant with Bonne Maman strawberry jam

Rediscovering the P.U.L.S.E version of ‘Wish You Were Here’

The 2nd and 3rd- grey rainy day, grey rainy evening, rainy grey day

The uniquely…

Inaugural Flow: The Story Of My First Period

Saturday, the 5th of March, 2001. An eleven-year-old girl is staying at her mom’s- well, her grandparents’ (mother’s parents)- house, where they have lived for a number of years since her parents split up, and later, divorced. I think it was four years in total- mom moved into her house, if I recall correctly, in the Summer of 2001. I’m not sure whether I had stayed there the week (as part of the…

The 4th- night air, eight o’clock and post, still smelling cold, but with a scent of freshness, of something else; it smells like late-October, lightness and possibility, a definite lift of the heart

The Seven Sisters, still and proud as ever, an anchor in the clear Winter sky

The enchanting, dusty black-blue of blueberries

The creaking, hiccupping sounds of the garden chickens a few houses over

Breaking a two-and-a-bit-month period of seclusion (the 4th)

Magic, bejewelled, slighty tart to the scent and taste blackcurrant jam

Avian flightpaths- birds unidentified- as ordered, graceful, turbulent and chaotic as the sea

The new Lush spa shop in town

Small, candy-pink roses, petals as delicate as crafted from crepe paper

The promise in January’s light, as if holding the secrets of the…

(Mon 5th Nov 18, 18:28.)

The second whiskey-laced homemade hot chocolate in three days: it is Bonfire Night, after all.

I imagine scaling-down to Borrower size, the subject of rogue experimental science and diving into my dark lilac scalloped mug, the intricate embellishments of birds, botanicals and butterflies encircling the inside rim a lullably mobile of sound and sight above my head as I…

Prayer does nothing other than make you feel like you’ve done something. It is nothing but a sanctuary for the passive: those who choose to stagnate in perpetual hope, rather than take hold of the tangible courage in acting to affect change. Any action, however small, is valuable. In situations where you truly cannot do anything, where you are made impotent by helplessness, feeding hope is all…

I have a real problem with the word ‘brown’, and other colour-centric words where they pertain to skin.

For some, they are exaltations of pride, affirmations of identity and fervent ownership of a feature that has been used to discriminate against them and others seen as similar, a reclaiming and redefining of something natural and beautiful that has often been warped to signify something dirty…

Skunk Anansie – Hedonism

Skunk Anansie – Hedonism