Luciana Francis

writer/escritora &visual experimenter

[lucianafranciswriter]

The Last Loneliness

Is the one

I can’t talk about

The one that does not make sense

When I hug my husband and child

The last loneliness is the one

Tempered by silence

Ragged heirloom from my mother

And sisters; the one

on my father’s blank postcard

The last loneliness is not far, nor here

Laid out past the last frontier

A line in the sand and in salt

It sobs quietly when the sun comes out

(You can’t write home ...)

It begins with an I

And I shall belong when it leaves

The last loneliness has a woman’s face

And I can’t quite put my finger on it

[lucianafranciswriter]

The River

today was one of those days

when I can’t help but feeling it all

the heart says “Dammit!”

but sometimes you can’t put a dam

in the river

(written three days ago)

[lucianafranciswriter]

Bond

Yes, the chord’s been cut

but you can always hold my hand.

[lucianafranciswriter]

Light Study with Plant and Chair

[lucianafranciswriter]

Pumpkin Head

I carve

to make way to the light;

to turn the hollow into gratitude

You have aligned me

with the seasons

and rituals do no seem

like an act

of a desperate soul

knocking at holy doors

( I craved God )

Rituals have become what they are -

the confirmation that Love and Time

can heal a wounded Life

                                                                           Happy Halloween!

[lucianafranciswriter]

Trying to Teach My (Nearly) Three-Year-Old to Have a Conscience

Me: We are a family. We can’t be selfish with one another.

My Son: Selfish is a fish (makes fish-like sound).

Me: Selfish is a fish that does not care about other fish.

My Son: Selfish is not a very nice fish.

[lucianafranciswriter]

Three Leaves

[lucianafranciswriter]

What Salt Does

Salt shows you where the wound is.

[lucianafranciswriter]

: [mjəmà]

mouth shut

throat cut

baby ashes

blunt blows and

flames : What has awaken her,

spat her out

from that bestial  altar

  don’t called it rebirth

she was ousted by a hellish clout

what now

in a portrait, silent as a thorn

brimmed eyes too dark for tears

(re-edited Aug 31st 2018)

https://www.instagram.com/humanrightswatch/?hl=en

https://www.instagram.com/p/BZsofvFFNVv/?hl=en&taken-by=hikari.creative

[lucianafranciswriter]

Will Do

You know

you have escaped when

silence is a choice

the wound still raw

to the voice

any cut will do

the sharp echo

from wound to the wind

so that a sound can begin

a breath can be

a pause

before I speak again

[lucianafranciswriter]

Morning Run

What is it about Autumn

that makes us want to withdraw

and write?

It is perhaps the sight

of leaves lying scattered

like all unspoken words, our hearts?

[lucianafranciswriter]

Lydd-On-Sea Haiku

bright expansive clouds scattered pebbles on the shore we arrive, Coast Drive

[lucianafranciswriter]

what can the distance bring but to begin the end to all longing

Luciana Francis, August 2017

[lucianafranciswriter]

[lucianafranciswriter]

Sometimes we must leave where we are from to find Home.

Luciana Francis (London, July 19th 2017)

[lucianafranciswriter]

The Whirl

The whirl and my waters, deep

On the surface the whirl makes an opening:

flower-shaped parted lips

At the root of the whirl-flower

it drips unnamed nectar

water gulps itself - silent thirst, unbreathed whisper engulfed by its own heat

( edited at 00:01 July 11th 2017 )

[lucianafranciswriter]

Light On Wood

Love is the Light

that takes flight

to find you in the distance

and like a prism on the wood

it leaves a mark, not a scar

it adds a halo to your days

Love arrives and stays

your arms, my sunrays

your Love, my Light