When I was praying
For the victims
And for the living
Our enemies
To give in
To anger
& Hate
I saw Death
Pick up its scythe
And go on cutting
All the while
At my sheer naivety

Image credit:

Colour of Sin

The woman, accompanied by a little girl, enters the church with harried steps; she
genuflects in the poorly lit nave, 
surrounded by saints with stony stares.

Her lips move quickly—with fervour—she mutters prayers which fly up into the ether.

The little girl, all of five years old, who knows she must be still and quiet, shivers inside her coat.

She is cold, always cold.
She is told, always told
how bad she is, that she’ll never amount to anything, her eyes are the colour of sin, it is a shame that she exists.

She trembles, afraid, a tight feeling in her chest – here, in this holy place, can God see-and punish her for-her wickedness?

She readies herself for a possible lightening bolt should God decide to strike, but even in her fear she is careful, always careful

not to make a sound, not to remind the woman she is here at all. God scares her, but her mother inspires terror. 

She is a pathetic little bird, with no safe nest.

She is her mother’s cross to bear, a fact she is never allowed to forget.

Image credit: & Pinterest


The Ephemeral Veil

Light and dark


her subconscious has called
I hearken to her plight
her denial means nothing
my son of false light


a desire, a wish is all they crave
to taste what is forbidden by your grace
I offer a plate full and now
not in paradise after they die


yet life is a flash, the blink of an eye
each tomorrow a gift—when today has gone by
desire is subjective—perspectives oft change
I’ve given her judgment to discern what she may


this game you play like chess, protect the king at all cost
pawns thrown about one small step at a time, held then lost
we play risk, where the dark is conquered at will
the only choice, is that which is free but to dwell in hell


oh twister of logic, distorter or truths
who has poisoned her well since the days of her youth
planting hypocrites for thorns to choke out her blooms
freedom of choice is my gift and love’s totem her boon


creator of heaven and earth, you say
to toil and toil the ground you laid
you took away their garden of Eden
and left them to live a life in decay



King of Kings and Lord of Lords,
I may be weak at times and I am flawed
yet, for salvation, a set of rules I should obey
stressing the fact that in ME you have no faith

Angel of darkness, you offer me pleasures
but you tread as if I have neither valour nor honour
All of life I am eager to taste – light and tenebrosity
yet I do not wish to do so without some kind of integrity

Lord of Lords, hypocrisy hidden by the mask of pity
Angel of darkness, your falsehood at least I expect
Fraught and high, salt and tide – my life, in its entirety
is mine to decide upon, my mind & heart are not without abilities

Written by NathalieAntony and Matt – March 2016

This is my first writing threesome. I got to play slut to “cheap whore” aka Antony and “semi-whore” aka Matt – those are terms of endearment by the way, just in case you’re in doubt. Do I even need to introduce my brothers from another mother and from another continent? Well, okay then. You can find Antony @ Perso~in~Poesia and Matt @ This Mortal Flesh – do go and give them some love if you haven’t already.

Guys, thank you so much for all the fun, I love that our words bounced back and forth between Canada, the US and England where this French woman resides – I find it all mind-blowing…and I’ve nothing left to say but I ❤ you guys!

Image credit:Life And Death by Luciana Lebel

Peace for Paris

peace for paris

At least 128 people have died and around 180 were injured last night in Paris in a series of carefully planned and coordinated attacks. The Islamic State claimed responsibility for the attacks, citing Paris as “the capital of abomination and perversion, the one that carries the banner of the cross in Europe.”

I don’t think anybody was surprised by the fact the horrors in Paris were committed by the Islamic State. We all guessed early on that it must be behind it, because, who else in this day and age still goes on insane crusades?
Isis said the carnage in Paris last night was “a holy attack facilitated by Allah” as if anybody in their right mind could ever think that fear and horror can, or should be, associated with God and religion.

Insanity is the only word that can describe “this”. What happened in Paris yesterday could have happened anywhere. It wasn’t just the French that were attacked, it was Democracy, Liberty, Equality.
As I was reminded last night of how low humanity can sink, I was also shown its capacity for kindness: texts and phone calls flooded in from friends in England who wanted to show me their support. My friends and family in France also sent texts and called, the lovely people here on WordPress were incredibly supportive. I stayed up half the night glued to the horrific news but talking to friends and family and bloggers as well. Similarly, in Paris last night, it wasn’t just about carnage and brutality: people reached out to each other, with taxis drivers taking people home for free and Parisians opening their doors and offering shelter to anyone left stranded in the city…kindness won out over hate, like it should do, like it always will.

This morning, I don’t have the words, either in French or English to describe how I feel. All I can say is: the French are strong, we were subjected to vile attacks earlier this year and we survived them, we will survive this. We are not going to be intimidated, we are not going to be afraid, we will not bow down to insanity and terror.
Terrorists attacks are meant to divide, they are meant to sow fear. We will not be divided and we will not fear. My heart bleeds for the victims in Paris and my heart bleeds for their families and friends, but I stand here today as determined as ever to uphold the values of any civilised country – I am not, and will not be afraid.

People gather in solidarity of the victims of a terror attack against a satirical newspaper, in Paris, Wednesday, Jan. 7, 2015. Masked gunmen shouting
Image Credit: Jean Jullien

An ode to Books

I’ve been a bookworm ever since I learnt to read. My mother was a very cold woman who was deeply unhappy with the state of motherhood – the fact she produced 4 children despite this, is to do with her devout Catholicism. Thanks to her, I got a first-hand look at the hypocrisy of religion from a very young age. It gave me an interest in the subject, and my subsequent research did little to convince me that religion is anything more than a scam cooked up by the very first elite to keep the masses under control. The amount of blood shed over the centuries in the name of religion is simply staggering.

But, anyway, I digress – I didn’t mean to get all Richard Dawkins on you, because my point was about books and how they gave me an escape from the cold house that was my home. I think that even if I had a happy childhood, I would have been drawn to books anyway. It’s all those beautiful words and what they can do to (and for) your mind and heart. Libraries were an actual heaven for me as a child because my parents didn’t have books, apart from the trashy sentimental novels that my mother read. I was that kid who sat in the corner for hours, happy as can be – until closing time when I would carry my carefully chosen books to the library counter so I could take them home. My library card had to be renewed often as it was “stamped” on an almost daily basis – so often in fact, that the library assistants actually asked me whether I really read everything I took out. “Yes, yes I do, why would I take books out and not read them”?! was my reply. That question was just absurd to me.

I will forever remember libraries with fondness but of course these days I hardly ever set foot in them. Now I can buy books you see and oh, the beauty of being able to do that! It’s not libraries I haunt these days, but bookshops! My house is crammed with books, I’ve ran out of space on my (many) bookshelves so I’ve taken to storing them wherever I can – even in some odd places sometimes. There are even books piling up on top of the piano! Thank fuck for eBooks, even though (like many bookworms) I think that nothing replaces the actual feel and smell of a book.

Books piling up on top of the piano

Still, how amazing is it to have hundreds of books stored on one device? I was bought an e-reader as a birthday present at a time when they were totally new gadgets. It was made by Sony, bright pink and cost £200 which was a lot of money when you think that you can pick up a Kindle quite cheaply these days.

My very first e-reader ❤

Now the Sony e-reader is sadly too small even though it was high tech at the time, so I read eBooks on my iPad which is great – but I always have a pile of books on the floor by my bed. That pile consists of favourites which have been read dozens of times and they are by my bed because they are like much loved and treasured friends to me – so I keep them close 🙂

Favourites by my bed

I always carry a book in my handbag for train journeys and those spare 15 minutes you might have at any given point when out and about. I don’t lend books anymore because of the lack of respect friends have shown to them in the past. People have dropped my books in the bath and giving them back to me completely ruined – and even, and that’s the ultimate sin, not given them back at all!
So now I’m a selfish literature bitch and won’t lend anything to anyone. You want a book? Go and buy it! You might as well anyway – the struggling author will thank you for the few pennies you’ve put in his pocket.

Books: lovely, wonderful books – how dull my life would have been without them.
I have now done everything I needed to do today and I am not going out until later. It’s raining and miserable outside – I am going to go and snuggle in my favourite armchair with my iPad and spend the next hour blissfully getting lost in some imaginary world. Isn’t life grand?