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Shattered light
The human soul is often depicted as a flame. The flickering that creates the light in our eyes and perhaps gives the universe colour. But what happens if the light… Read more
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Too worn to smile
I think this poem, written about five days ago is pretty self-explanatory! A study of my face The face in the mirror Is becoming strange to me Not because of… Read more
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Flow of consciousness
I wrote this poem last night at approx. 9.55pm. I was on the train coming home from MCing a poetry night. Flows Tied to words that flow in a torrent… Read more
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Part 2: more musings on a museum
Museum Part II The museum is closed for renovations. Exhibits have been torn apart for storage and future reassembly. No new ideas are being accepted. The notion of dust is… Read more
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Part 1: Musings on a museum
Museum Part I My new words are housed in this ancient museum Dust softly wafts down to stick to ink as it dances across the paper. Immediately redundant and tired they… Read more
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Moments before a performance
I am MCing an event on Tuesday 31 May at Wellington’s in/famous Fringe Bar. The line up introduces a number of new and emerging poets. I love supporting people on… Read more
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How do you say goodbye?
I attended a farewell for an industry leader this week, I shall call her Ms X for privacy reasons. Her knowledge is technically accurate and her vision is focused on… Read more
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Career experiences
This poem started as a short piece of prose that was sitting in the archive for quite a while gathering dust. I find myself in a completely different context now,… Read more
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Loneliness
This poem was inspired by my regular commuter trips into Wellington. Wellington Station is quite beautiful, and becomes a hub of activity at peak times when people are filing into… Read more
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Who owns beauty?
I have a number of roses in my garden that flower despite the amateur level of care I provide. They are mostly older varieties that have been here since the… Read more
Angele Toomey Poetry 