Dear IC #2

Dear inner critic,

You can stay in the house when I’m gone, I won’t sell it.

I’ll probably call in, every once in a while, to see how you’re doing. No parties allowed – I’ve asked the neighbours to keep an eye on you. You’ll have to repay me for any damage done.

Don’t expect me to invest in maintenance. You have enough time on your hands now to make amends. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.

your former protegee

Dear IC

How do you find the house, now that I’m gone?
I’m guessing messy, dusty and empty.
Have you taken to criticising yourself, now that I’m not around?
Blaming yourself for a job badly done, suggesting it was you who scared me away?

I wonder how you’re doing without me.
I’m guessing you are bored, feeling useless, don’t know what you do with yourself.
You thought I’d miss you, but you’re missing me instead.

I am having a fabulous time, without you bossing me around.
I notice what I want, what I care about, where I want to go.
I’ve been savouring moments, letting go of lots.
I feel I’m finally getting to know myself, enjoy who I am, live without fear.

Dear inner critic,
I’m not sure when I’ll return.
Could you water the plants for me and feed the cat?
You know better than me how that should be done.
No need to put the mail out of sight, I don’t mind burglars.
I’ve taken everything of value with me.




How to create world peace

Buy good seeds
Tend to their needs

Buy good seeds
Tend to their needs
Provide ways to cool off when things heat up
Provide means to stay warm when temperature drops

When plan fails
Buy new seeds
Keep practicing
Until you succeed

I found this one in an old notebook this weekend. It made me smile.

I’m sharing it today because I’ve started reading Myriam San Marco’s book Sakura, and my first thought was “I’ll never write again. This writing is so powerful, mine’s not needed.” I know that sort of thinking is a fallacy – all our writing is needed. All our painings. All our hugs. All our presents. All our presence.

Still, I recommend Myriams book if you’re into gutfelt poetry. Get it from if you can, a poet deserves to make a buck! Or two…



Barking fiercely
In my heart
He wants to protect

Shelled, hiding
Safe place lost
She makes herself invisible

Quivering poet Gabriel Moreno was kind enough to ask me if I was still writing, when we met in Amsterdam. I hadn’t; it took some time to recover from #NaPoWriMo. But he made me remember I love writing. Thank you Gabriel!

Dog barking

In my next life

In my next life I want to be a scallop
and watch you with 110 eyes

In my next life I want to be an octopus
to embrace you with eight arms

In my next life I want to be a hagfish
and love you with all four of my hearts

In my next life I want to be a sponge
to kiss you with all my mouths
– correction –
with all my orifices whose function is to ingest food

In my next life I want to be a crocodile
and bite you like you’ve never been bitten before

In my next life I want to be a sun fish
I’d produce three million eggs for you

In my next life I want to be a pistol shrimp
my snap almost as hot as the sun

But these things
don’t add up
I’m just a silly old cow
who can’t stomach you

A skunk
– blinding me
A hairy frog
– you’d break your own bones to create claws
A Texas horned lizard
– shooting blood and chemicals at me from a distance

I choke on your quills
move away
and wait
for my next life

I know I can save you

Today’s prompt was to write a poem that engages with a strange and fascinating fact. Some day during #NaPoWriMo I wrote this draft, and I figured it suits the prompt rather well. I’m too tired to invest in a final version though!

30 poems in 30 days… we’ve did it again. As usual National Poetry Writing Month has been an inspiration, fun, exhausting and full of wonderful connections.

A great big shoutout to my favourite #NaPoWriMo website and the people who invest so much energy in it. This is what is known about them (copied and pasted from the website):

“NaPoWriMo is owned and operated by Maureen Thorson, a poet living in Maine. She started writing a poem a day for the month of April back in 2003, posting the poems on her blog. When other people started writing poems for April, and posting them on their own blogs, Maureen linked to them. After a few years, so many people were doing NaPoWriMo that Maureen decided to launch an independent website for the project. This site was designed by the very nice people at 2the9design, who know waaaaayyyyy more about back-end coding stuff than Maureen does.  But this site isn’t meant to be “official,” or to indicate ownership or authority over the idea of writing 30 poems in April. There is no corporate sponsorship of this project. No money is intended to change hands anywhere. Maureen just likes poems and wants to encourage people to write them. The site doesn’t ask for your email address, or any other personal information. Heck, you don’t even have to give your name.”

Maureen, I hope you’re in as much awe of the beautiful effects your website sparks (creativity, world wide connections, personal growth, etc.) as I am!

In my next life

By Angela van Son


Is there no way out of the mind?

Easy answer: No
Problem: You’re bound to eternally walk stairs that neither go up, nor down
Challenge: How to find your way when there’s no exit?
Dilemma: What’s worse, to keep walking or to stop?

Medium answer: Possibly
Problem: How can you know if you’ll like it?
Challenge: How to find your way when there’s no map?
Dilemma: What’s the exact amount of out you want to go?

Hard answer: Yes
Problem: You might not be able to get back
Challenge: How to find your way when everything is the way?
Dilemma: Do you want to go on a road to nowhere?

This was today’s prompt: Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem based on the Plath Poetry Project’s calendar. Simply pick a poem from the calendar, and then write a poem that responds or engages with your chosen Plath poem in some way.

I chose Apprehensions, a poem from February 1962. I took the line that spoke to me most as a starting point: “Is there no way out of the mind?”. The end result surprised me, I wouldn’t have considered this a poem. But it’s where the prompt led me, and I’ll accept it as my entry for today 🙂

Plath’s question made me think of a famous litho by M.C. Escher, Klimmen en dalen , that he made in 1960. His piece was inspired by an article by L.S. Penrose, a British psychiatrist, geneticist, and mathematician and his son Sir Roger Penrose, a British mathematician, physicist and philosopher of science. Their article, first published in 1958 in the British Journal of Psychology, was (partly) inspired by… the artwork of Escher.

Full circle – or perhaps full Möbius strip 😉

Penrose Steps by Alex EylarSource:

A limiting condition

When she opened her eyes and said ‘I love you’, he wondered Can it be true?
When she asked for his hand in marriage he asked ‘Are you sure’?
When she said ‘I do’, he secretly thought I find that hard to believe.
When they lived happily ever after, he played Will you still love me tomorrow on repeat.
It was only on her death bed that he plucked up the courage to ask Was it me you loved, or just that I kissed you awake after 100 years of sleep?

The prompt for today was to write a prose poem. I’m not sure I’ve done that. I’m also not sure I didn’t do that.

No feature today. I’m in a hurry, and I didn’t read a lot yesterday. My brain just said STOP.