The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

To Do (poem)

Mar
09

Things that I’m supposed to do:
I drink a cup of tea
(more…)

sunlight (poem)

Jan
15

catching sunlight
on my fingers (more…)

my heartbeat (poem)

Nov
30

an ageless question I ask myself
who am I if I’m without
(more…)

no peace (poem)

Nov
21

There is no peace today
No empty winds in which to pray
(more…)

illusion (poem)

Oct
20

for F and Y

There’s a moment, beautiful and new
Where I open my eyes and see you
(more…)

let this be known (poem)

Aug
30

For K and B

fire and light within my soul
stand by your side, let this be known
(more…)

a kind of lightning (poem)

Aug
30

For K and B

there’s a kind of lightning in the tongue
fired up when hea’en and earth were young
a light that shines but only in a heart
a passion that can pierce the fiercest dark

(more…)

the golden sea (poem)

Aug
30

For K and B

the golden sea within your eyes
an innocence devoid of lies
(more…)

in quietness (poem)

Aug
09

in quietness I wait
and here I stay (more…)

tonight (poem)

Jul
28

I am quiet tonight
I say again (more…)

to breathe (poem)

Jan
19

For F and Y

let me breathe, I need to breathe
see the waters boil and seethe
(more…)

the little birdies (poem)

Jan
09

the little birdies
cheep! cheep! cheep!
(more…)

I wait (poem)

Jan
09

cold, I wait:
the aches and pains
cannot break
(more…)

lamp on the wood (poem)

Jan
07

bright lamp on the wood beside my window
keeping watch with steady eye and yellow
(more…)

a name (poem)

Jan
07

call me something, anything,
I used to say,
as though just having a name
was good, though it wasn’t
(more…)

labels (poem)

Jan
07

I could be bold
like the colors of ancient crayons
unlikely adjectives sprawled
over the yellow labels
(more…)

So Many Things (poem)

Jan
01

So many things that I should write
If words would come, my day be bright (more…)

a poem (poem)

Nov
24

I guess I had a poem inside me
aching to get out
(more…)

I promised you stories (poem)

Nov
24

I promised you stories—
visions of golden light,
right out the gate—
can you see them,
glinting in the bright sun,
or hear their whispers
on the flowing breeze
streaming over your ears
and into your heart—
listen! I say, just listen
a little while to the sound of my heart
whispering into your own

Silence (poem)

Nov
24

In silence, I grasp my heart
Take it in hand and shape it
(more…)