AFTER COMING OUT AFTER A LONG DEPRESSION (for the South African poet Cwayita Hlohloza) I wanted to say this. Just because we don’t talk all the time on the...
Author - Abigail George
Abigail George studied film and television production for a short while, followed by a brief stint as a trainee at a production house. She is a Christian feminist, writer and poet. She lives in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. She has had poetry published in print and online. She has had short fiction published online. In 2005 and 2008, she was awarded grants from the National Arts Council in Johannesburg. She is not purely devoted to poetry but to pursuing writing full time. Storytelling for her has always been a phenomenal way of communicating and making a connection with other people. She writes for Modern Diplomacy and contributed bimonthly to a symposium on Ovi Magazine: Finland’s English Online Magazine. Her latest book Winter in Johannesburg is available on Kindle via Amazon.
JAMES DEAN (An experimental poem in twelve haiku) You’re bringing heaven (on) – keep still (in memory) thread or I’ll lose you (your) hands made to cherish...
KISSING THE VELVET OF YOUR SHOULDER BLADES (for H.) If, if, I cease to exist, or co-exist in your world, suffering is progress. Flesh...
Now when I look at you, my son, I know that earth’s tomb will come for you, like it will come for all of us. Take me into the light. It has a quality that...
DAMBUDZO MARECHERA (Experimental love poem in twelve-haiku) A necessary kindness – the dull flame of desire when rapture ruled (it was a Saturday night) Shapes...
A GUIDE TO A WOMAN’S COURAGE (for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee) I dream love. Dream myself up a costume...
FOR A SISTER IN FARAWAY JOHANNESBURG I have written this to music. What do you think of this, I want to ask but your mind is elsewhere. You’re distracted, I...
THE PAUSE BETWEEN ACTS (For Adeline Virginia Woolf) And, so, breath is life. And, so, breath is life. And, so, breath is life. Of stars and hands. Of night...
A WALK THROUGH THESE EMPTY ROOMS Look, it is autumn. Autumn rain. It is the beginning of a brave new world. You don’t understand me. You love me, you say you...
HEALING AN OLD RELATIONSHIP On the wings and prayer of a dove Leaves falling to the ground. Poet...
‘Turn the page, Lawrence, and you will find lessons learned from the mistakes you’ve made. We’re all fragile. It’s what makes us human.’ Patricia shivered...
PHOTOGRAPHS (For my mother and my father) I pretend I do not love this city but I do. I pretend that I feel nothing for the women, men and children who rise...
SUBMISSIONS
