Anthology Of A Painter’s Thoughts

I’m that kind of girl who bumps into a stranger and spends way too much time creating elaborate backstories for them. Thoughts like, ” He’s definitely coming from a carnival, look at his shoes”, “She’s not smiling because she just found out she has a terminal illness,” or “That kid is cute, pity his dad is a dick,” always pop into my head. There’s always a story to tell about someone so yes, I…

Early this week, someone asked me the above question.My response? ‘In the middle’. But later I thought, “Yikes! Do I really believe that?”Then yesterday, I saw a 2023 Euronews interview with British-Indian sculptor Sir Anish Kapoor where he shared his reservations about AI’s role in creativity. So it got me pondering my response and here’s why I believe ‘in the middle’ is exactly where they…

Anyone who has ever shared a bed with me calls me a nocturnal creature. The night is when my thoughts begin to marinate. I may lie still for hours, giving the illusion of deep sleep, but in truth, I’m having intense, thought-provoking conversations with myself. There’s a whole world inside my head, an entirely different life filled with “what ifs” that explore alternate realities far more…

Quarantine lifted, I set my sights on Xġhajra, Feet brushing the pavement, finally feeling free. Slow steps on cool tiles, a pace I couldn’t find in Naija, Valentine's still distant, but love flows through these narrow streets.Out of the alley, I wandered to Zabbar, Eyes wide, soaking in the charm, Lingering in awe, wrapped in euphoria, Every building in harmony, a perfect Maltese calm.I’d have…

The word is 'please' yet not said enough, If said enough, then not meant with heart, If meant with heart, then not received as such, A fragile gift that fails to do its part.The word is 'please,' a prayer not often answered, If answered enough, then a bridge we seldom cross, If crossed, then not without some fear engendered, A step too close to risking pain or loss. The word is 'please,' a seed…

Let me out Let me shout Let me away from voices loud Lest no light shine on my fears Lest weeds of illness take root and bear Lest I persist through struggles and tears

I refer to myself as the ‘Penapist’. It is a portmanteau that I coined from a combination of the words ‘pen’ and ‘therapist’. I believe in the power of the pen which in this case translates to the therapeutic potential that the pen could have on the one who reads. That said, I find no difference between a curious mind and a hungry belly, they are both looking to be fed. You being here equals…

He Knocks. She lets him in He crawls up her skin Beaded with tiny liquid droplets. He does not wander on the surface Onto her guts, he latches Devouring as he burrows in. The feeling is strange yet so familiar Has he been here before? Was it he who made her heart race? He who shut down her brain? He who gave her momentary pleasure? Yes she saw him even though she didn’t look It was he…

He Knocks. She lets him in He crawls up her skin Beaded with tiny liquid droplets. He does not wander on the surface Onto her guts, he latches Devouring as he burrows in. The feeling is strange yet so familiar Has he been here before? Was it he who made her heart race? He who shut down her brain? He who gave her momentary pleasure? Yes she saw him even though she didn’t look It was he…

Poor heart is cold as ice Long hardened by the temperature's rise First straw was easy, not enough of a vice Sting as it may, poor heart could have stayed warm And the preacher could have prayed less And the painter's globe could have used more light But sorry the last was vile Like iced daggers it pierced the aorta Familiar hands held it so, not poor heart or the blood The cold pointy knife, yes…

Daily writing promptDescribe a risk you took that you do not regret.View all responses Forgive me Mother for I have not sinned That straight and narrow path you prepared up north Briefly, I walked it but recanting steps veered down south Shamefully I tell you now, the journey's been very rough Dark and dreary nights hastened sore and tired feet Albeit not fast enough to turn me around and…

For walking into my life And filling the emptiness For fixing the ruins And mending all the cracks For lighting the darkest path With love without limits For being a piece of peace A bastion of hope For the brilliance in your eyes When midnight envelopes at noon For the desire in your touch When you draw me into your arms For guiding and guarding again and again Every day when I can barely…

Forgive me Mother for I have not sinned That straight and narrow path you prepared up north Briefly, I walked it but recanting steps veered down south Shamefully I tell you now, the journey's been very rough Dark and dreary nights hastened sore and tired feet Albeit not fast enough to turn me around and back Hear me, Mother, my mouth's been shut too long And my mind bears the burden of lonely…

The sneaking to meetings Gossip and whisperings Showing up and lifting up Slipping up and not getting judged Precious moments overwriting worries Today, tomorrow, forever making memories To live through loss and celebrate the win To cry, to laugh, do everything in between To connect and to recollect To feel and be felt Knowing joy so true and pure Giving all and giving more Sharing and caring,…

You are not your name You're a depth too great and vessel too strong To call you this, is to summon spirits And to call you that is to keep you bound Give voice now to the yearnings of your rage Tell them you wear no label You are not your colour Not green, orange, yellow, blue, violet or red To call you dark is to give sun credit And to call you light is to vilify the night Speak your truth or…

I am a decimal, yes decimal with the point Bowed long like a pariah, right here was where hope died I saw love, I recognised it, almost touched its centrepoint But fractions are subtracted like false forces in life Then you came along. A whole number ready for an equation If two and two is equal to four Me and you can have 'forever' in addition If as even number we complement to the core As…

Tears, I’m crying them in torrent Competing with the rain And thunder of mighty currents Can you see my eyes? Echoing the pain in my heart Shedding bloody liquid flogging them upon this earth This broken heart of Africa Tears, I’m flooding beneath my feet A downpour of burning liquid Not enough to clean the church Too mild to wash the stain This stain of crimson liquid This stain like a…