Pet photography by Tanya Simone Simpson. #petphotography

Poetry: How they teach you about yourself

So writing poetry about animals seems to be a thing I do now. This is a follow-up to how they teach you about living, dedicated to the tiny furball I'm now responsible for keeping alive, healthy and happy. how they teach you about yourself i want to tell you about those who came before you … Continue reading Poetry: How they teach you about yourself

Close-up colour photo of a black cat w. Pet photography by Tanya Simone Simpson. #petphotography

Poetry: How they teach you about living

This is for anyone who has ever lost a four-legged family member.  Animal companions occupy a unique space in our hearts and our lives, and losing them brings a unique pain. Don't ever let anyone tell you "It was just an animal". There is no such thing as just an animal. how they teach you … Continue reading Poetry: How they teach you about living

Poetry: Red Hand

This poem has been living in a works-in-progress folder on my computer for quite a while because I wanted to wait until I no longer felt the way it described before I posted it. Sometimes when you leave a place, it takes a long time and a lot of work before the place leaves you. … Continue reading Poetry: Red Hand

Poetry: Teeth

the dream, it began with one of my teeth falling out and the others were bent like gravestones toppled and tilting in the weak mush soil of bleeding gums the room had blue tiles half-bleached white in an aching permanent noon like a bathroom in an asylum in a film (in a dream) the mirror … Continue reading Poetry: Teeth

I miss the girl I almost was. Poetry by Tanya Simone Simpson.

Poetry: I miss the girl I almost was

i miss the girl i almost was she sits lightly on the edge of the bed at 4am and brushes my hair back from my face with a touch like spiders' footsteps her breath is like ice and her wishes are weightless she wraps a strand of promises around her fingers and kisses me goodbye … Continue reading Poetry: I miss the girl I almost was

21st November. Poetry by Tanya Simone Simpson.

Poetry: 21st November

you danced wild around the fire all flames and pale skin in the biting cold then you shivered beside us grinning, eyes flashing dark we climbed the hill in time for dawn your hair dyed acid green face shining through a delicate rain mist i’ve always wanted to, you said you told us the extent … Continue reading Poetry: 21st November

Atlas Released. Poetry by Tanya Simone Simpson.

Poetry: Atlas released

this is only archaeology now and these are only ruins of your lingering wasting away a razor-wire moat of cold rusted ocean and your bitterness, your sickness of soul your silence still poisoned the ground but this is only archaeology now atlas no longer stoops nor strains and there is nothing left to uncover

Sunday is Breaking. Poetry by Tanya Simone Simpson.

Poetry: Sunday is breaking

i ran through myself through the glass through your hands through the night to this morning to this mourning this requiem requisite thundering faltering memory glasses half full and the bottles half empty i fell in love fell against table tops fell down the stairs and fell into this blackout and breathlessness waking to silence … Continue reading Poetry: Sunday is breaking

Jude the Apostle and Akhilandeshvari. Poetry by Tanya Simone Simpson.

Poetry: Jude the Apostle and Akhilandeshvari

even broken, you are beautiful even shattered and stricken and falling to pieces and i don’t mean beautiful like your hair or your body or the symmetry of your face i mean beautiful like your soul built from sighs and screams and rage and wonder and the sum of all you are, and you are … Continue reading Poetry: Jude the Apostle and Akhilandeshvari

As Alike As We Were, My Brother. Poetry by Tanya Simone Simpson.

Poetry: As alike as we were, my brother

as alike as we were my brother as well as you meant an i love you for each empty bottle an i'm sorry for each broken glass on the night when the rain hung under the stars and the firewood glowed in protest to the cold and we sat arm-in-arm on the bench that your … Continue reading Poetry: As alike as we were, my brother