In my heart there is an ember,
Cozy and warmly kindled.
Emotions of you fill every crease.
And around the fibers of my soul mingle.
Tyrannized by thoughts of you!
As you traverse my mind so nimble.
Your love is as the bellows
Which, through my everything blows
Transmuting my little ember
Sending flames roaring, as it goes.
Entwined is my entity
Where your vines of passion grows.
Impatient, but earnest I await.
A new moon or change of sun.
That signifies my captivity be done.
And such frivolous formalities,
Shalt be gone, there will be none.
For ‘tis on that day,
I shalt be just a boy.
My cells will dance,
Oh they shall play.
As every bit of me,
Is overcome with joy.
For on that day,
You become just a girl.
Smiling as with your fingers,
Your hair you twirl.
Tell me I am your love,
Say I am your world…
About the Creator
Stieve Fernandez
Hello am a 36 year old Jamaican national three years into my journey of creative writing
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Rabbits Paw
Are you searching? For the lucky clover Or is it inherent roving From which you suffer I presume your days are planned Seems you’re destined to uncover Some mystery quite grand You insatiable lover This morning I saw Three of your little babies Trapping me in a state of awe Whilst speaking the vernacular of sages Quite succulent is this weed And it stains your teeth red To his brother, who agreed! The fawn colored one said A third let out a squeak And seemed to nod his head The morning still damp and bleak An ant procession dismantles a scrap of bread. Now they voraciously chew Implying dandelions Is to them a taste quite new! I captivated! Lean on a post of iron Hopping around now Seeming to play a game of tag Frolic they, so agile! Wow! Stomachs bearing a telltale sag. Sniffing the air Somehow, her approach they detect With not a moment to spare In a line, from my presence they eject Chasing after mother Of them, was the last I saw! Except trails one next the other Preserved in mud, rabbits paw.
By Stieve Fernandez4 years ago in Poets
A Little Bit Of God
January 2026 I thought I’d spend the night in neon lights on grainy film but my brother is telling me how an eternity of hell is caused by prevalent peace, and who am I to disrupt such a thing? So I found myself in the same skin with the same sights, wondering whether or not I am one of those– do I feel peace? Do I expect more when it is gone? It being everything. We’re running out of time but the car is belching up something strange and we’ve got God in between our eyes nodding along to every apology and plea spoken for our friends and loved ones– they don’t know any better, they’ll come around eventually. He’s telling me about barbed wire guides around lives and ties and wives and lies and, look, the snow is starting to fall so I guess we better hang up soon. But it’s been too long. We’re building fields of skills and realms of distrust and these moments are only seen now, can no longer be read as words, only swept with eyes upon oil pastels or smudged charcoal. It’s a painting of an evening, like Daniel’s soles in Edgar Degas’ mind, but if anything is just it’s the lack of unrest in skin like His and lives like this– okay, so maybe five hours on the phone is a lot if you have a job and you’re trying to cook dinner, but only one of us falls into that gorge and only one of us believes in what lies beneath it. My brother tells me things that sit in my spirit like half an ounce of prospect and a squeeze of bourn, how he tells God to let me in: despite my sins, despite all the moons in between these calls, despite the burning in both of our throats. I do feel peace here. I also feel that my peace is a subpar window job, a pinky’s strength avoiding blizzards inside the bedsheets. I’d like to spend more nights like this, with contrasting disaster living between a speakerphone, and God finding some space in between.
By Olivia Dodge7 days ago in Poets
Thoughts on Vocal and the way the world is
"Death cannot stop true love, only delay it." – Wesley in The Princess Bride. I decided to come back to Vocal on a very cold and dark night at the end of December. I had been, and still am, convalescing from a horrible staph infection that had gone misdiagnosed for months. This, paired with the increasing challenges of being healthy, making the best choices for my co-parented child, being a wife, and being a director at a new job, was a lot to manage.
By Jazzy 5 days ago in Confessions
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