Utopia I Have Seen
Utopia I have seen in a glimmer, in a dream in a moment of pure bliss from a lover’s kiss or a baby’s suckle Utopia I have seen in a glimmer, in a dream in a moment in between the setting of the sun or the fresh drip of honeydew Utopia I have seen in a glimmer, in a dream in a moment where I am free inside a marriage vow or witnessing first steps Utopia I have seen in a glimmer, in a dream in that moment I’m serene beneath her dress and hoisted upon his chest. Previously published in Sensual; An Erotic Life https://medium.com/sensual-enchantment/utopia-i-have-seen-84f11002ce6b Purple Rain When purple rain is falling, falling, dropping, fast, furious, and then slowly maybe even a bit deliriously from the open sky… Letting it all out just you, the little old world, and I. That’s when we find it’s okay to say let’s go crazy despite the tsunami elevator we ride up and down side to side but that doesn’t mean we have to slide. As Prince says: “I’m not gonna let de-elevator Bring us down Oh, no let’s go.” Previously published in Put It To Rest https://medium.com/put-it-to-rest/when-purple-rain-is-falling-as-doves-cry-let-s-go-crazy-in-the-sky-3e277a07ccb6 Blood Orange Heart I’m so tired of playing Playing with this bow and arrow Gonna give my heart away Leave it to the other girls to play For I’ve been a temptress too long Just…Give me a reason to love you Give me a reason to be a woman I just wanna be a woman ~ Portishead She’s so tired, tired of being a temptress tired of playing, playing with the slingt of what it used to be as she slips on an orange peel before locking it in the glory box “Leaving it to the other girls to play” Oh, it didn’t have to be this way, she laments as she eats the blood orange by the light of the full moon in full bloom. Previously published in iPoetry https://medium.com/ipoetry/blood-orange-heart-66c90602d862 Like Suzanne I always wanted to be like Suzanne feeding men tea and oranges by the river like a siren or one of Cohen’s lovers shacked up in Hydra like the Paris ex-pats buzzing around abstract words and images. But then that would somehow mean that I would also be in love with a man who struggled to love because he struggled to love himself. But does that matter? Does it matter that he didn’t love in their way in the right way but in his way and was it not better than no way. Is it not better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? I still want to be Suzanne free to love how and whomever she wants because she’s tameless and irresistible… because “you touched her perfect body with your mind.” Previously published in Marlene in a Pub https://medium.com/marlene-in-a-pub/like-suzanne-3162457758c0 Like A Muse In A Cage Like a muse in a cage like a drunk in a midnight choir I have tried in my way to be free. Like a ballerina teetering on a music box like a skunk stuck in an hour I have tried in my way to be free. Like an aloof armadillo in an explosion like a translucent paper nautilus exposed I have tried in my way to be free. But even when my heart spills like black squid ink upon a page my essence remains chained. But you swore on that song and all you had done wrong that you would make it up to me. You said that together we would be free. But the world’s handprints are still on me. Previously published in Marlene in a Pub https://medium.com/marlene-in-a-pub/like-a-muse-in-a-cage-5a024f0d9b71 This Body is Electric He sang her body| ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ e -l-e-c-t-r-i-c ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Honouring Maternity Nature Divinity and the soul Taking only what is granted never plundering or mining for blood diamonds rubies, emeralds, or gold The female form is ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ e -l-e-c-t-r-i-c ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ he sang it felt it spoke it to cherish the gateway to life in all of its wonder curves and delight soft and succulent ripe and opulent in the reflection of ascension Your body is ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ e -l-e-c-t-r-i-c ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ wired to be admired and hardwired to sing siren’s reveries wrapped in longing and moving in ways that reveal shades of grace Timelessness art and perfectionism in imperfection Mother and babe as one: babe becomes girl girl becomes woman all interconnected in the seeds sown from inside the womb The giving force of mother and woman are one and the same: you cannot honour and feed on the one who nurtures you while you mare the one you take from She is waiting somewhere in between sound waves and heat waves of heart waves crashing ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ e-l-e-c-t-r-i-f-y-i-n-g ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ all she tends to She is the vessel She is the song ~my body is electric *Previously published https://medium.com/literary-impulse/this-body-is-electric-acd2ee14037d Biography: Debut Chapbook With life moving at a slower pace and travel coming to a halt due to the pandemic, Lindsay Soberano-Wilson crafted a hybrid journal of poetry and memoir about how her sense of community, identity, and home was shaped by her past travels. Casa de mi Corazón: A Travel Journal of Poetry and Memoir (Poetica Publishing) is the story of a Canadian woman on an inner and outer journey to find a home. Lindsay Soberano-Wilson is a poet, teacher, and freelance writer who lives in Toronto, Ontario, with her husband and three sons. She is a member of the Canadian League of Poets. Her poems and articles have appeared in publications such as FreshVoices22, Quills Canadian Poetry Magazine, Canadian Woman Studies Journal, The Canadian Jewish News, Scary Mommy, Travel Thru History, and Poetica Magazine. In addition to addressing self-identity and travel, her writing explores motherhood, feminism, sex-positivity, education, relationships, mental health, and literature. She holds a MA (English Literature) and a BEd from the University of Toronto, and a BA (Creative Writing and English Literature) from Concordia University.
Fevers of the Mind 