Poetry by Aša Ricciardi

Buzzed
 
sober
is a 
sad word
but we
are
happy
 
dry
is a
cracked lip
parched earth
but we
are
overflowing
 
sober
means 
restrained
but we
are
excitable
 
in this
newfound
moderation

which
releases us 
from 
an abstinence
of life
 
and
unleashes us
to
high vibration
living
 
so
 
we are drunk
 
on the heart beat
of the earth
and wild
with the buzz
of presence




Nuisances

Like garlic skins
that stick
to the sink,
fingers
or lid
of the garbage bin,
I can’t shake
his
flimsy lies.
They cling to the
inside corners
of my mind.




Make-Believe

I have been touched but not felt,
ravished but not loved.
The satisfaction of the ego
but I was made to satisfy the heart.
So I get tears trickling
down my throat
like a water mill lugging mud,
choking on my teeth,
and splitting at the seams
all because
…I believed.

​

Bio: Aša Ricciardi writes from the road. Three years a nomad with only 40 liters on her back, she belongs nowhere and everywhere. She is living the story she always wished to write and collecting tales she never thought to tell. Aša freelances as an editor and writer to support her vagabond life, but her real aspirations are in children's literature and novel writing.

---