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The bees

Stored in our bodies

For all this time

As cruelty reigned

Cold and hard

And we knew those soft and warm among us

Were not safe

The bees

Buzzing inside

Out-noising our minds

Keeping us stiff

Alert

Afraid

The bees

Vibrating constantly

So that our jaws may never unclench

The bees

Tying us up from inside

Nervous system overdrive

The bees

So long they resided within us

We forgot that we were not made from them

The bees

Swarming

Storming

Stripped of warning

The bees

Explode from our mouths

As we sigh in relief

At the end of the season

Of harsh tyrrany

The bees

Roaring

Imploring

The noise in our heads

Spills out unchecked

As at last

The women of Australia

Release

The bees

(C) Zoe Xanadu 2022

On the occasion of our historical release from an abusive government.

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And so 

Late stage capitalism closes in
Sputter stumble grip squeeze…
We heave and try
We trudge and sigh
Bound, and on our knees

Conditioned slaves to a broken system
Acutely self-aware
Of our own pathos 
as we participate in the continuation 
of our own oppression 

How could we make a poem with rhythm
When jolting discomfort is what is now so deeply familiar?
When removal from so much of what is natural and beautiful about the human experience has become our accepted reality…

How has it come to this though?
Our ancestors would not have wished it for us.
The legacy we stand to leave does not look great.
And yet, here we are, rubbing our noses in sea-trash-to-be, as fossil fuels burn on.

Eat shit and die.  Could we at least soften it with a comma, or even two, for Oxford?
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We fell 

The states were closed to one another
As our hearts lit up 

A tiny window opened for us 
To sip from true love’s cup

We yearn and strive to feel close
With new laws holding us apart

We both stay home so far away 
When home is in each other’s heart

I long for you my darling one,
To feel your arms around me

To hear you whisper to my hair
Of all the things that should be

Hold on my love, and I will too
To the truth of our sweet story 

This pain we know is compost
For a garden full of glory

(C) Zoë Xanadu 2021

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Comirnaty 

Hello spike protein
Welcome to my systems
I see the genetic code in you,
And invite you to show my body 
How to make copies 

Good morning dear body
This is an invited guest
Please make them welcome 
Drop down into accommodation mode
If you will, and help them do their work

A biscuit dear guest? A cup of tea?
Let me show you to our lovely bath
Soak in here awhile with your kind host
And get to know each other
Find your harmony like new lovers

Befriending the reality of our times
Supporting our communal wellness
With a perfect fusion of love and science 
Dear body, you and the virus share Mother Earth now
May you do so safely and gently
It’s ok
Keep
Breathing

I love you
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And now 

Presenting:

This moment

Welcome to your appointment with life

Thank yourself for making time 
in your busy schedule 
to be available to notice 
your breath 
coming into your body 
and leaving your body

Your belly rising
Your belly falling 

Your mind slowing
Your tension releasing 

Your heart opening
Your shoulders falling

Your smile relaxing
Your eyes softening 

Your hair growing 
Your forehead clearing

Your organs rejoicing
Your freedom expanding


Breath coming in

Breath flowing out 

Yes 
How lovely 


Looking deeply into things 

Opening your perception up to the beauty and miraculous perfection all around you 

Remembering your innate intelligence 

Savouring the elegance of life
And your self as part of the miracle 

Here you are

Right here
Right now

Breathing
Breathing

Calm
Smiling

Present
Wonderful

Worthy
Welcome

You are as perfect as that leaf
That shell 
That star
That sunrise
That breeze
You are all of these things 
With gratitude and love
You belong

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Breastfeeding 

I remember 

It was years ago now 

Sitting in a privacy cubicle in the parents’ room in the middle of a shopping centre


Conditioned air
Piped muzak
Grubby curtains
Playschool on the tele on the other side of them

Seeking some rest before attempting
The epic effort of loading the car with baby and self 
Back to the place of endless labour 
and insufficient sleep

Feeling a little self pity
At my lot
As a single mother
not by choice 

And a voice 
From the next cubicle 
Where two local mums had been talking
Cuts through my ruminations

“Babydaddy’s a useless C##T anyway
All he ever does is
Smoke ice 
And
F**k putrid hoes.”

Yes, I remember that.