I’d like to share a poem I wrote that was published just after the summer last year. It’s a biographical poem that talks about how any small mark of strangeness can cause you to feel like an outsider in a society that likes homogeny.
Strange Light
What is in a name, a palatalisation of an origin. The smallest variation of strange, Vowels and consonants clash and eddy on a mirror. My hair lays flat as the clay fields of my mother’s polders and my face traces my father’s distant memory. This body is divided, the linea alba is a train track through this landscape, running from the sand cliffs on the beaten beach to the hills and mountains of the green south. The flesh craves soft leafy light to mollify the tension. I receive a wet birthday card yearly, for not having grown strong roots. If I was a tree, they would cut me into a ship. If I was a tree, I could provide my own dappled shade. There is too much light on this stretch of sand and clay. The third letter of my name rolls into ears like a carriage, but it is the tail they trip over. Strange how even this small thing makes the ground sterile. This poem was first published by Tint Journal.
And a gift from a friend:
My poet and writer friend Sun Hesper Jansen, who realised this spellbinding poetry collection last year, and is also about to publish a elaborate high-fantasy novel, is treating us readers to a novelette. They have put a free PDF of the story Away From The Machine up on their website. There is also a dyslexia-friendly version, and an audiobook version available.
The story follows Lio, a tech professional turned barista, who discovers a ginkgo leaf with an SOS message from Nadiya, a missing patron afflicted with a mysterious blindness. Nadiya has been ensnared by the Sublime, legendary beings who control Ji Wai, a magical but cruel tea house. As Lio investigates, she questions if Nadiya truly needs rescuing or if her own past holds the answers she seeks.
In particular I loved the line My hair lays flat as the clay fields of my mother’s polders
It is filled with so much
These lines, and this collage, are like that leafy shade for the fellowship of the strange. And thank you for that gift in exchange; you’ve saved Nadiya from having to write many a tiny message! 🕷️ ❤️