Peter's Angel

A warrior. You asked. This is what

I want to be. Especially, in this place

Where weapons of mass destruction,

Gang wars, vast armies, lethal intent,

And, most discouragingly,

Moral Justification, doesn’t exist, there

Is nothing I would like better than to be

A warrior. For the good… not of mankind,

But with kindness for man. The ones

Who navigate blindly, without a glimmer

Of understanding. Suffering the many…

The endless indignities. Having been born

(Not out of choice) – into a countries ripped

Apart by political strife – into communities

Starved of any opportunities for betterment –

With diseases beyond the control of medicine

Or God’s mercy. I will stand next to them

In their moments of need. Still their fears

And offer them comfort. In their loneliness

They will not be alone.

A gentle warrior. Yes indeed, that is what

I choose to be.

Angel Project

I believe in reincarnation and angels. Though when it comes to reincarnation, I don’t believe it is in our powers to know what lives we actually lived in the past. There just seems too many Cleopatras and Viking slaves out there to be true. Yet, I do think intuitively endless cycles of corporal/spiritual change and transformation makes more sense than purgatory, heaven and hell, or even Nothing.

(In my belief system, the jury is out whether it is possible for Tibetan monks to find the new and next Dali Lama years after the last one died. For the sake of world peace, I really do hope they know what they are doing. That is the one and only exception I am not willing to weigh in upon.)

It’s another thing with angels.

They are true. They might not all be as godly and good as esoteric literature would have us believe, but they are there in our hearts and dreams.

The following series of collages and poems is a flight of fancy and I apologise up front if I am stepping upon anyone’s religious toes. I also want to apologise to any angels out there who might feel I am taking the mickey out of them. That is not my intent.

The idea behind this project is to imagine what would happen if we were given complete free choice as to what form of angel we wished to be. The angels in these poems are real people I have loved and whose spirits stay close to me even after they died.

The following series of collages and poems are dedicated to my children. They may not remember their family relatives or, in some cases, even had the opportunity to meet them, but the legacy of these people live on in some of my children’s personality traits and physical attributes. How marvelous is that?

Angel in the Sea

Going off this week on a writing retreat. This is something I have dreamed about for the lsat few years. Going off with a dear friend. She's writing her second novel. I am writing family stories. In between, we will hopefully be walking on the beach talking about writing or sharing a good curry lentil soup also talking about writing.

The collage above is the first in an angel collage series. This one is for my father. Gazing into the vast surface of sea foam and seeing an angel appear.

Things you can never live down

Falling asleep in a workshop you are giving.

(Fortunately not me! And thankfully no one taking my trainings have either.)

Moscou Berlin Paris

No, I am not on this train. It is waiting on the track next to mine. Don't you love the visuals of the sign?

Plastic Palm Trees

Plastic palm trees, standing absurdly rigid at the corners of the café terrace. Who managed to convince the owners these monstrosities would add flair?