Where I’m From


Written by Kiernan Antares

June 9, 2020

I am from under a crab-apple tree,

from tangy tart and pink-purple blossoms.

I am from the basement,

weaving spotted spiders and hidden candy bar wrappers.

I am from safety,

and fear

kept swallowed and chewed,

broken and bruised.


I am from torment and gunfire,

valour and strength.

I am from protection,

and throttled regrets.

I am from jingle bell shadows,

butter tarts and fudge,

and silver dollar coins.


I am from driftwood,

birdsong and smoky booze,

from fishing boats, islands,

and crossing seas.


I am from cast outs and typing pools,

from Be quiet!

Be a pilot!

Conquer the world!

and What are you doing,



But I am also from so much more—

than the eye can see

the heart can remember

and the mind can fathom.


For down the way was a sanctuary

where I once visited,

glory and grace entered me there.

Shrouded in dreams,

would one day reveal.


I am from those moments—

So tender and true—

a seedpod—

of moxie and magnolias

     bursting in belonging.

Kiernan is a writer, poet and editor. She is also the Founder of the Inspired Writers Group, author of the novel Phoenix Star – An Adventure of the Spirit, and an award-winning artist. Her work has been licensed by Blue Angel Publishing and featured in Centerpoint Magazine, Indigo Sun Magazine, Journey of the Heart and other publications, also forthcoming in the Raconteur Literary Magazine. Kiernan is currently writing a book of poetry. To learn more about Kiernan visit her website.

Related Articles


The Priceless Gift

The Priceless Gift

Written by Luiz De Souza July 9, 2020   I. The father thought about his family About what was right And about what was wrong Every morning and night And after midnight all night long.   The thoughts were so tender Dreams about night and day About kindness once in...

read more
In the End Poppies United Us

In the End Poppies United Us

One day I painted poppies a field rich in hues my heart did soar on flights of fancy purple yellow green and blue.   This painting hangs anchored wide deep and high prominent in our home little did I realize then the import pressing homage to hang ‘till I die....

read more


Lanterns bend over the street Dividing the night where people meet Some in shadow Some in light Lanterns see everything in the night   A wanderer has fallen asleep His bed is a grate where he will not weep Some never wake Some cannot wait For the light of the...

read more


want to see more?

About Us
Get Involved


follow us

email us