The Journal

Poems about rage, motherhood, politics, grief, awakening and the refusal to be quiet. New work posted as it happens. Read, share, feel something.

Poetry With Shaking Hands Poetry With Shaking Hands

The Rucksack

There’s a rucksack I carry.
Invisible, but heavy.
It wasn’t packed in one go,
just a slow, relentless loading.
Not days or months,
but years of collecting…

Read More
Poetry With Shaking Hands Poetry With Shaking Hands

There’s no spreadsheet for this feeling

It’s 7:44am. I’m already tired. There’s one odd sock again. Never two. Who knows where that other one goes. There’s grated cheese on the floor and a child saying, “Can I go on the iPad now?” before I’ve even finished wiping the tears from that video of a mother in Gaza digging her baby out of rubble…

Read More