Category Archives: epoche

Even on days like this

Posted on September 14, 2019 by subincontinentia

In the hungry chasm of Empty Space Where someone else’s music plays I, like you, keep my small quiet Faith. I see you, though my eyes get blinded in what passes for light. We abide in the Awful Dark Like … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged connection, grief, heartache, loss, poetry | 3 Comments

The Rest Remains

Posted on August 25, 2019 by subincontinentia

Never again Will you look at me, in that certain way, As if to say, There is nothing that you cannot be because you are a part of me. And that part of me that knows this to be true, … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged grief, mountains, poetry | 2 Comments

Company

Posted on August 12, 2019 by subincontinentia

I’m getting used to not being alone. The space between things lighter, Less weighted by my own clumsy translations. For so long, the evenings have stretched like minefields until I tripped into bed, Exhausted or exploded. Now, they’re wine violet … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged philosophy, poetry, romantic | 4 Comments

Sandaled by Shadows

Posted on July 5, 2019 by subincontinentia

I tried to remember what you said to me, While I was falling asleep. My days pass like dreams of other days, while my dreams acquire a supernal reality. Was I dreaming when you told me that desires are … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged desire, loss, love, poetry, sandals, shadows | 2 Comments

Notes on the keys to change…

Posted on May 18, 2019 by subincontinentia

The Bridge Between what we are And what we could be Exists Only in …the Crossing

Posted in epoche | Tagged becoming, bridges, change, crossing, poetry, spiritual | 3 Comments

The Turk at Twelve O’clock

Posted on May 11, 2019 by subincontinentia

On a long road in Tottenham I walk with my eyes on the drains. With one love behind me and one more still giving me pain. A drunken Turk heading towards me from twelve o’clock Well at least I know how … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged depression, London, North London, poetry | 1 Comment

Prophet on the 259

Posted on May 10, 2019 by subincontinentia

When he got on the bus, his stench was enough For all eyes to fall footward and arms to fold inward Sainsbury’s bags stacked between rows of cold knees planning evenings as tables for tea and TV. “We’re all sleeping!” he … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged homeless, London, North London, poetry, spirituality | 3 Comments

I sat down to talk with you

Posted on May 8, 2019 by subincontinentia

I sat down to talk with you and as I rambled on about my day My sleeve brushed against your shirt. The friction was enough to send me on my way, but One tiny muscle in my ankle was enough … Continue reading →

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How critics of Notre Dame donors diminish the poor

Posted on April 21, 2019 by subincontinentia

Along with millions around the world, I watched in horror as the great cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris went up in flames. Less than a week later, the donations for its reconstruction had reached one billion euros, made up … Continue reading →

Posted in epoche | Tagged Bill Gates, Billionaires, Donations, Fire, Notre Dame, Philanthropy, Poverty, Taj Mahal | 4 Comments

I know a man who sleeps so much

Posted on April 13, 2019 by subincontinentia

I know a man who sleeps so deep Each morning is a Jules Verne Return Where tentacles squeeze and suck around his will At every league he seeks to rise For even one eye to half open Is a journey … Continue reading →

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