#32 healing poetry; complicated father’s day

I see The shadow of youBehind his formA dayThat should Be celebrated forThe Dad’s that choseTo stay.You were my sunAnd you fell belowThe horizonMy eyesTracked you as youLeft coloured streaksIn the sky – Except, you are not a sunYou are a man.And you chose each stepYou walkedAway from meCrying at the door.And now, I can’tContinue reading “#32 healing poetry; complicated father’s day”

#31 healing poetry; completely flawed, completely real

I’ve been holding onto so much.Strange tales told at midnight,Someone else’s love.I couldn’t let go of the idea,that that love should be for me, too.And if I wasn’t built to be her,this imaginary lover, then maybe I could act it out.See if he arrived, andsilver screens wouldn’t touchwhat we’d create.But my creation spun out ofContinue reading “#31 healing poetry; completely flawed, completely real”

#songswithoutmusic; Hungry for us

It’s okay to be hungryYou say that you hurt meWhen you opened yourMouth and let her inIt’s okay to want meWhen you’ve made another Choice, our heartsAre beating without aVoiceto pain we couldn’tname I knew you onceAnd ILoved you twiceAnd I Hate thinking ofyou now I loved you alwaysAnd IKnew you thenAnd IHate thinking ofyouContinue reading “#songswithoutmusic; Hungry for us”

There’s A Moment When…

There’s a moment when, The wind rushes through my hair, I’m walking and then, The water ripples with strange dreams, I’ve only ever seen, In my sleep There’s a moment when, I grasp a pen, and sweat I feel But can’t see, stops me thinking The words get jammed at the nib, And I’m notContinue reading “There’s A Moment When…”

Irish Wake

I know tomorrow,when the world grows steadyand quiet –we’ll close the curtains,mute the sounds of modern life,and stand for a momenthands clasped,hearing the rasp ofbroken footsteps at middayThen, the coffin will travel,with flowers growing oldin the air conditioning ofa herse, with cracked leather seats. For now, we stand round, and drink and eat around aContinue reading “Irish Wake”

Painting again…

Whenever I think about painting, drawing or creating – I freeze. It’s not that poetry is an easier form of expression. To be honest, there are parts of me that feel mortified that my poetry ‘following’ is not growing faster. But, with visual art, I see these rolling pictures. These past events and people rockContinue reading “Painting again…”

Move On Girl

The anxiety and guiltpushes up throughmy ribsI breathe outsome generic liesthat tripon my lip–I haven’t practicedfor this–As my time draws closer to an end withyou and thissituationdraws more blood,than, perhapsit should,A friend reminds methat I owe no-oneanything–Still, a part of mewants to prostrateat the feet ofan ideology, I don’t fully understand –I think this isContinue reading “Move On Girl”

Japanese Black Ink Painting for Beginners Online Program

https://www.karencolbert.ie/login I recently attempted to get into the art of Japanese Black Ink Painting – without really taking stock of my energy levels. Something I’m learning is how valuable it is to be aware of our daily rhythms, chronotypes, and when, where, and what we need and want to expend our energy on. I’ve alwaysContinue reading “Japanese Black Ink Painting for Beginners Online Program”

At most, it felt cold.

When you held me it felt cold. At most, it felt cold. I wasn’t sure why you were there, Appearing in the space, Where my mother should have been. I thought if I gleaned a promise from my father, That I would remain first in his eyes, It wouldn’t matter that your presence, Signalled somethingContinue reading “At most, it felt cold.”