Mindless Mindful, Scared Nude poetry by Francesca Simonelli

Mindless Mindful selfie.jpgMindless Mindful selfie.jpg

In the days leading up to my first solo show: Sacred Nude, I have asked poet and writer Francesca Simonelli to respond to my Sacred Nude drawings. What she did completely blew my mind away! Every day until the show opens I will post some of her very special, moving and inspiring poetry for you to enjoy.

Francesca Simonelli‘s poems have touched me and many others for many years and I was over the moon when Francesca agreed to write some words in response to the Sacred Nude series of artworks. Sacred Nude was inspired by a meditation practice that resulted in the healing of body and mind. I wanted to create a series that was dedicated to my meditation practice and the joy (and struggles) I encountered therein.

Exhibition opening: 22 September 2018, 6-9pm

Opening times: 1-5pm every Saturday until 20 October 2018

Inspiring and creative workshops each Saturday


Retreat Yoga Studio

367 New Cross Road

London, SE14 6AT

See home page to RSVP



By Francesca Simonelli

My heart


To the point of emergency

Sounding the alarms

Of medical officials

I sat calmly


“Do I want to stay…..

or do I want to go?”

I silently contemplated

Continuing the mindless monotony.

Exposed there

In the ER

Doctors swarming


It may as well have been a dream

It was all so surreal

I sat


Seemingly unaffected

This wasn’t the first time.

With the near stroke

And inexplicable paralysis,

I panicked.

When in the midst of writing –

My hand simply stopped working

And I went numb.


Only because my body forced me into submission –

That terrified me.

But this,


I knew I could control my heart,

On some level.

I was in charge.

I could drop this body

And run,

Or let myself be lifted.

I walked out –



Perhaps a bit of both…

While the doctors were huddled

Not telling me their plan

Down the hallway,

As if I were already flat-lined.

They did not include me

In their conversation

As though I were an eavesdropper from the other team

Listening in on their mysterious tactics

While the head coach

Mumbled indiscernibly.

I did not trust their approach

Or methodology

But it was a Sunday

And my holistic doctor was not the “on-call” sort

Unless it truly were an emergency

I just was not convinced.

I would wait….

I was ok if I died waiting

But I knew in that moment

It was completely up to me.

With blind faith

I walked away

My legs still as sexy as ever

I could have been a dancer

I sauntered off that artificially lit stage

Where I would have been hooked up

And God only knows what…







You know the routine….

The, “Lie down and take it” investigation

A ridiculous process of elimination.


I rest my body when she calls intermission

My legs like antennae

One pointing to the heavens

Reminding me that I am made of stars

The other pointing to the earth

Reminding me that I am made of dirt

I may hide my arms behind my back

I may not let many people in

But believe me when I say

I am wide open

And I know who I am.


Many fleeting moments



Most days.


Leave a Reply