Brand New Platonic Soulmate

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Let my heart step out tonight
pirouetting on red shoes,
flouncing and bouncing down the hallway
my chambers pumping in blood-red hues…
Open to life, open to love,
it skips and slides down marble floors.
Every chandelier is a rainbow of light;
the orchestra is playing a heartthrob song
as my heart beats,
to the beat of you and me.
I see you in every portrait
hanging on the gilded walls,
My heart and I do twist and glide
Entering and exiting every single passing door.

I’ll find you again, somewhere before the end.
Waltzing on intuition,
you’re someone out there I’m destined to meet.
I’ve known you in so many forms,
and each time
I think I won’t find another like you….
I do.
But the heart must be free
and I just bought my shoes,
to dance on the Ferris wheel of fate,
grab the ring, that I’ll put on the finger…
of my brand new platonic soulmate.

Karima Hoisan
December 22, 2021
Costa Rica

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Really Real


To sail in the sweet stream of creative bliss and painless dreams
of sanity and healthy days, slow nights of languid moonbeams.
If I could hold that moment, where nothing hurts, where the next day
promises to be even brighter, even kinder but in the very same way,
I’d call you on the telephone to jump into your jet-plane, fly on down to play.

Wasted minutes tie us up, prisoners of inertia’s knots, “ Don’t act! Don’t move!
Stay where you are, don’t learn, don’t grow, find some excuse to not improve.
Don’t take a chance, don’t trust your instincts crying out, why that’s insane…
If I could send that invitation against my fears, then you could ride that plane,
and finally make the leap of life, that comes but once and changes everything.

My limiting condition, like a root bound plant, keeps me focused in one place.
I’ve learned to harness inner freedom, with waves of sunlight on my face.
You know we grow with each goodbye with each hello that comes and goes,
If we don’t resist, say yes, to that open door that swings ahead, who knows?
We could be counting stars in an indigo night, hands held tight, entangling toes.

To dream inside creative bliss, to twist and mold the old, we fabricate the new.
We’ve always been sorcerers, who make something from nothing and watch it come true.
Old hands at the wheel of digital life in a time when this age rebirths itself to be
a time when people will put greed before art and even art becomes an NFT.
Hop on a plane, or take a train, the time for real is really here; I hope that you agree.

Karima Hoisan
Dec. 19, 2021
Costa Rica

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Toucan Logic


Toucan Logic

“You look like me,” said the Toucan
to another Toucan, eating a banana.
“Should we fight?”
“Why? Because we look like each other?”
“No, because there is only one banana.”
Slide1 2
“The robins do it all the time.”
“They fight all the time; their wings make clicking sounds.”
“They make dogfights in the air.”
“They make dogfights? They are birds.”
“True, but we are birds too; so do you want to fight?”
“No, I want to eat this banana..”
“Well so do I!”
Slide1 3
“So I will eat the left half; you eat the right.”
“But I want the left half; I’ll give you the right.”
“But..I am perched here, on the left.”
“I really don’t want to move; I want to eat.”
“I really don’t want to eat on the right.”
“Why? what’s wrong with the right?”
“It has less left than the left.”
“But you ate it. You are a faster eater than me.”
“I’m still hungry and there’s not much left.”
“O.K. I will move to the right. Now are you happy?”
Slide1 4
“You’re not happy?”
“Because you just wanted to fight?”
“O.K. Let’s do it. Let’s fight!….Just know something…
If we fight, we will never talk again. That’s O.K. with you?”
“Not really. It’s not really O.K.”
“Do you like talking to me?”
“Yes I do. We’re both Toucans. We look the same.”
“Just eat your banana O.K.?”
Slide1 5
( They ate their banana and they never did have to fight)

Karima Hoisan
December 14,  2021
Costa Rica (Observing Toucans at my feeder:)

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Back To The Light

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Slipping into the micro-shrooms
I slide into my poetry.
A new poem, unexpectedly comes
after coffee and after breakfast.

I always feel the urge to write a poem,
any poem, every poem, like a warning
Like running to the bathroom, quickly
to get to the keys just in time .
Now these little helpers,
entering my blood stream
twice a week, free- flowingly,
have pulled me from depression
and coaxed my innate creativity.

Really there are still surprises,
the good kind , that we can find.
After death and loss and grief,
these moments feel like a sunrise.

No, I’m not tripping, I’m not drugged
I feel more hyper real and I write.
I sing, I build, I play piano and I smile.
Little tiny particles that grow in the dark
have helped me back to the light.

Slipping into the micro-shrooms
I slide into my poetry.
A new poem, unexpectedly comes
after coffee and after breakfast.

Karima Hoisan
Dec. 7th, 2021
Costa Rica.

*Footnote I have been micro-dosing Psilocybin
100mg every 3 days for the last 3 months.
It might not be for everyone….but it’s been good for me.

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Take My Heart


                                        “Your Heart is Safe with Me” Markus Akesson”

My deepest affairs..
have been affairs of the heart;
bodies had no part in it..
they could have been stored
in a box.
These love stories
are always sublime,
always have amazing endings,
even when they end
in death and surprise,
even when they are
nothing like I thought they were,
even when I could have
felt betrayed..

but I didn’t.

Every affair of the heart,
I’ve known has been a gift.

A gift, a lesson,
even when I thought I was too old to learn…
one more thing.
I have lived and loved
in the most complicated ways.

Each one, could have been a novel,
could have been a soap opera
could have been on your kindle or on T.V…
but they all took place
in my head and in my heart,
sometimes, just my fingertips,
expressing all of me.

I could love you if you were Stephen Hawking,
brilliance trapped in your own human cage..
I might not ever know,
you could not walk or talk or run,

but if I ever found out,
I promise you,

I would love you even more.
My heart always sees the inside,
loves the soul and doesn’t care about
washboard abs or silky hair.
My heart is self repairing..
always ready to be given away
or worn on my sleeve.

Karima Hoisan
Dec. 5, 2021
Costa Rica


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Short Prose Poetry Contest – Honorable Mention

Good CropM

Karima Hoisan, inspired by Sahara,
The Stars of Wadi Rum

author’s site

After the devoured lamb
licking our fingers clean
2 million stars of Wadi Rum
pulling our eyes
up to the sky
You hooked my 
little pinkie
with yours
as we lay in the sand
hearing the adolescent boy
playing the Oud
until he made us cry.

Purple mountains
pink sand,
fake feet fights 
laughing undercover
we muffled our laughter
with your sleeve.
No-one has the right
to be this happy

All I need is you.

Your profile,
a Persian princess
framed in embers
from a dying fire….
My honored one,
I trace your nose
with my feather,
wrap the blanket tighter,
those gelid desert nights.
are swirling swirling.

I’ll buy the best gold
to adorn us.
You always laugh
when I am serious.
I’m really serious!”

Some masks
with silver tooling
and hanging coins,
We’ll tinkle
and impress
next time
we buy bread,
but tonight….
I just need you
Cling to me,
we are a shipwrecked
life raft for each other
on this rolling sea
of sand.

*     *     *     *     *     *

“The caves are so beautiful
in morning light
“Come sleep 
up above with us”
“You’ll miss it all”

“No thank you..
We’ll sleep below,
right here
by the fire…..”

“All I need is you
the stars of Wadi Rum”


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Type-cast by Love


“Amor” by Jack Vettriano

Type-cast by Love

Even the bad tastes good in my history
when I turn back the pages
and yes, it was all about love, all about
the many ways and forms I was molded,
shaped by love, by the sleepless nights
of loving and hoping to be loved.

A longer life than I sometimes admit to,
My Director chose the most wonderful parts..
and I accepted every one, because…
well I knew, I did not write the play..
Still I had themes just made for me…
amazing roles and I learned the inside
out of love and loss.
I was type-cast by love and I didn’t care.
Love, lack of love, more love than I knew what to do with…
I was up for each role..
even trying to stay within the rules.

I learned to love the loveless…
because I always could see inside.
I made strange choices, that in the end, turned out just fine..
When love is the compass, the North Star,
there is little danger of not getting to where you were going.
I never noticed details, that might impede,
On the contrary. I embraced each new script of love,
with a seasoned actor’s security….
Out of the corner of my eye
watching for the Director’s nod
and then….
I’d throw my whole self into the role.

It’s time to say, “Thank you,”
as my large reel is winding down.
Grateful for every walk-on, for every starring role,
I still keep that sign out in front saying..
“Free to be in the next production”
“Open for love in your upcoming show.”
I only work for The Best.

Karima Hoisan
Nov. 19, 2021
Costa Rica

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New Paint


New Paint

The workman are tapping on the walls
since 6 a.m.
Instead of sanding 50 years of paint
they chip chip away the old
and ready it to be painted anew.

the new color,
will be the original
envisioned a half century ago
by people not even in my family.
No doubt they compared,
holding up colored plates,
the tricky decision to find
just the right white,
out of almost 60 shades.

Then in its tan days,
soccer players
practiced on the lawn,
Priests came to dinner,
People laughed and acted silly.
No one even saw the paint,
they just felt the warmth
emanating from inside.

In it’s blue days, things fell apart;
The roof cried in every room
when it rained too hard.
Less people visited,
even a pandemic locked the owners inside.
Blue time, surrounded by
peeling Wedgwood walls.

Now the rebirth!
Doubly vaccinated people
want to come over
and feel that house again
with all it’s memories…
Open wide its doors…
“Oh the house looks lovely”

Layers of life, fondly recalled
then chip chipped away.
But all is as it should be;
this reborn white, completes the circle
of a well-lived in house,
of many paintings and peelings,
that begins it’s rebirth,
one more time…. today.

Karima Hoisan
Nov. 16, 2021
Costa Rica

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My Poem,”Way With Words” on Spillwords Press

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Hello everyone,
I am happy to share today, that my poem, “Way With Words” is now up on Spillwords Press.
This is my 7th poem chosen for their site, and once again I am grateful to the editors and all at Spillwords, for accepting my latest submission.

Way With Words.
I lost my way with words when I lost you.
I had this way with them, I was the gentle trainer,
and words were pigeons, squabbling,
until I coaxed them to their place;
and even if I let them go, a thousand miles from where you lived,
I know…because I know…
you felt their wings aflutter, trying to get back home upon your chest,
and there they stayed a while, before they laid upon my sheet to rest…….

(Please continue to their site to read the rest)  Click the link below:

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A La Virtual

By the blue virtual sea…
The waves lap and roll
and their energy,
liquid bubbles of blue,
rise up, passing through me
to my brain from my toes.

Virtual sea_004

Virtual sea_001

I feel as well as see
and in this moment
I am at peace
while happiness flows
through me.

I hope you don’t pity me
or think I am escaping reality,
I have just learned a secret…
there is more than one, really…
more than one reality.

Virtual sea_007 2

A la virtual,
movies play over me;
Try to imagine that
you are the screen…
Black white sidewalk_003

A moving sidewalk
displays black & white
I am black and white,
while colorful scenery
surrounds me.

And wherever I am,
I become part of
everything, when
I dance
sit or stand,,
or do Tai Chi..
Virtual sea_011 2

I built this world,
from just a tear
and an empty green square.
Now, the waves lap the shores,
birds call in the trees,
and I dance and I dance
in noble company.

Virtual sea_014 2

Tai Chi in a shark pool,
might be a bit extreme,
but they’re not real big sharks;
they just nip and let go.
They’re all bite and no body,
so they move very slow.

Virtual sea_022 2

Sometimes the water hypnotizes,
I get lost in the changing textured hues
and my avatar mirrors every ripple
as I lose myself in the pose, and move.
I smile at the sharks,
in this constantly moving painting
Surreally speaking,
what can they really do?
They’re just bouncy inflated balloons.

Virtual sea_016 2

A la virtual, 
I let my creativity run,
like a stabled pony,
let out on a field..
and it all exists, because
I made and molded and placed it,
not just for my enjoyment,
but for anyone,
who wants to come…
and share it all with me.

Karima Hoisan
Nov. 9. 2021

The Natascha Randt Memorial
Kitely – Virtual Worlds

*Here’s the door in:

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