Guest poetry by Isis Zystrid (1)


don’t speak badly
of my father–
we are all created
on the premise of whims
not our own,
merely fragments of light until
we can elucidate
things unseen
prior to our presence.
don’t speak badly of candles
in grimy windowsills
accompanied by prayers–
we can all find our fulfilments
running through and out of us
more rapidly than usual,
and there are those
who look to the inspired words
of scribes
from long times past
to manage the cumbersome
and thick of a present moment.
please do not speak ill
of the man who concocted
such effective biological recipes
to create the person standing
before you,
for maybe he is as complex
and nebulous as
the deities prophesied
to have brought about
the earth.
there is a human who has said,
“if there is a god,
he has a lot of explaining to do,”
but all my father has done
is explain,
he has intonations
and tact for such things.
he had knowledge for how lightly
i should tread
and how enthusiastically
to exist
within specific moments.
but what am i to expect
from a godlike craftsman
of all things?
they must have no teeth
for which to capture
the words they did not think through–
they must have no hair to stroke
as they contemplate how
to conceptualize all of this
succinctly.
please do not speak ill
of my father,
he did not leave me upon
a convent’s door step–
but much is to be discussed
whether such instances occurred to
this world
once an either malignant
or benign creature
had had its fill.

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About Sadie

I grew up traveling and have developed into a full-time activist, full-time lover of humanity, part-time musician, and am now training to be a life coach. Above all, I want to reach people and bring on a new era of love.

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