Subscribe

Disabled Dreamer

Author: Nicole Kinzel

  • Requiem For Personal Art

    I started enjoying drawing at a very early age. In order to keep me quiet and happy in church, my mom would allow me to bring paper and drawing supplies to church in a little plastic box. Of course I wasn’t very good at it then. Stick figure backgrounds and characters that were more detailed…

  • Blue And Green Poem

    They stand together. A secret meeting that one has to find. A brief touching of two kinds of life. That which both holds light and life. Just differently. Fated lovers that can barely secret time away. *** A forbidden threshold for most. A barrier that could mean death. Only those that are chosen can move…

  • To My Frustrations Poem

    I try to please you, But it is never enough. Barely worthy of a greeting. An absence that I should not have to try to fill. Ignoring responsibility and all I love. Selfish to the extreme. *** I ask for needed help, But end up having to beg for my existence. You claim you live…

  • Out In The Yard Poem

    My eyes are drawn to the flowers. Painted with all the colors under the sky. Temporary sculptures of life. Home to tiny creatures and even further unseen beings. Scented inspiration. Provided at no cost or human effort. *** Movement distracts. Quick lizards dart over both wood and stone. Making the world a playground. Enjoying the…

  • The Hobby Of Chocolate Making

    About the time Covid lockdown started, I like almost everyone else took up a culinary hobby. It started with the idea of wanting to color chocolate and create them in festive shapes. I wanted something that looked good and tasted good that I could give friends and family.  Pictured above are a few examples of…

  • Like a Crane Fly Poem

    How does a human live? Does life end the same way it begins? Violently and suddenly. What about the middle? Do we dictate our own nature? Some learn to swim while others drown. *** I like to think I live like a dragon. Majestic and a fighter. Long lived and intelligent. Full of the fire…

  • Alone Poem

    I used to lay on my back on the the yard lawn, Grass scratching the back of my neck, arms and legs Freshly cut and fragrant in the deep shade. Clouds and planes went sluggishly overhead. My father would tend to the garden while I lay And silently shred weeds in boredom. *** A few…

  • Where I Am From

    I am from nostalgic books. My entertainment and childhood companions, Freedom and illusion, Fiction is where I am from. *** I am from, “Why aren’t you trying harder.” And “I am proud of you.” From my Dad and Mom Saying, “You can do better.” and “You are enough.” **” I am from hospital visits, Unwanted…

  • Letter To My Bedroom Poem

    You are my safe space, My haven against personal walls. My lifeboat when the world outside tries to drown. I can picture every detail in my mind’s eye. *** I love the bright green ficus plant in my window. The tiny bit of life that comforts, Rescued from my dad’s dark office. You survived. ***…

  • Black Out Poem

    It starts uneasy. I can’t point to what exactly. I feel off. Am I thirsty? No, that’s not it. Hungry? Closer, but still no. Something is wrong. Unbalanced. Nausea starts. Dizzy. Moving objects hurt to look at. It makes the nausea worse. Is the color around different? No, still vibrant but flat. Not dimensional. A…