About Sarah Clive

Bio: Sarah Clive is a writer, author & wanderlusting, creative adventurer with a penchant for telling stories about love, life, destiny and the ineffable things that make us human. Her first book, Dream Warrior’s Manifesto, is available to download from her website, Amazon, Kobo, Nook and iBooks. She regularly blogs about tales for dream warriors, sock elves and sentient fruit and vegetables. She can be found having adventures all over the world and has recently been seen in Bali, the USA and Costa Rica, though you can see more of her shenanigans on her instagram (sarahclive) She's an ENFP, and Enneagram 8w7 (874), all of which leads her to be the kickass storyteller you see before you today. Sarah is an eclectic idealist with a rampant can-do attitude, and a bit of a girl geek in her spare time, when she's not reading, writing or out taking photographs. She's often found dancing in kitchens.

Sacred and Profane

Words hit like bullets Shattering the sacred space between, Leaving emotions smeared like blood. In this space "I'm sorry" is profanity Written in blood on my skin. It leaves me shattered, desecrated and defiled, This small word That tore through my skin And left me gasping for air. The words that remained Stuck in my throat like ice sculptures An invisible art unfolds on a canvas of mutilated promises.

By | 2017-11-13T16:57:31+00:00 November 8th, 2017|Poetry|Comments Off on Sacred and Profane

Heart’s Compass

Tides abound in endless dreams, Of truth to carry through seas and streams. A traitors kiss is offered now Cool lips upon a salty brow. Crashing waves and pounding heart: Our ebb and flow a work of art. Imprisoned words on rusty tongues, Freed by oceanic drums. Sorrows tumble overboard, Our treasured truths ever-flawed. Dangers lurk in ancient depths Mysteries my heart protects. Compass set, and onward bound To lost and broken-hearted ground, The tides alone won't set us free, Bound together in mystery. Shipwrecked on an ancient shore, Sirens' song and tales of yore, Truths discovered at such a [...]

By | 2017-09-19T15:55:20+00:00 September 19th, 2017|Poetry|Comments Off on Heart’s Compass

Challenging History

Soft myths unfolding into hard truths leaves me paralysed: untrusting of the world and everything I once held to be true. Somewhere in the unflinching truth-telling the stark truth faces me bald: in black and white with colours reversed. The landscape I trusted isn’t quite real. I’m walking blind in a world poised on the brink of apocalyptic times. Am I brave enough for the truth Dare I face my own history? Am I brave enough to see my own bias? Am I brave enough to face the violence, brutality, and bigotry that my blood has perpetrated? Will I stand [...]

By | 2017-08-27T02:07:00+00:00 August 27th, 2017|Poetry|Comments Off on Challenging History

Coming Home

Shadows danced, that moonlit night, when confessions burst from your lips; and left mine tingling from their touch. My hands locked into your gold-spun hair, lost as the world spun, suspended outside time. An eternity spent with your lips fused to mine. We felt, more than watched as technicolour seeped into a world that had always been shades of grey Your throbbing heart reverberated through my bone, blood and sinew in a thumping bass only I could hear. You called. I answered. It took less than a second to captivate me - Heartbeat to sacred heartbeat. Life was filtered through [...]

By | 2017-08-27T02:00:15+00:00 August 27th, 2017|Poetry|Comments Off on Coming Home


We burn with the rage of ice and fire She and I: bound immortal in the wild night Daughters of an ancient magic - Called forth in the wildflowers and smoke. The heat of the fire birthed us Both; raw and squalling Into an unwilling world Unprepared for our fiery truths. Aflame under a starlit sky We called down the rage of angels Which danced electric blue On our blessed tongues. Gaia spoke in the molten throbbing between soft thighs: The fire will always rise, and Leave my good on you like a stain. Did they call a demon and [...]

By | 2017-08-27T01:42:47+00:00 October 15th, 2016|Poetry|Comments Off on Witchlight

Otherworld Renaissance

Standing sentinel, We speak in a language Of heartbeats and murmurs. Our history is eternal, Our geography celestial, We punctuate this language with stars. Our memory is feeling Our expression silent. How we can utter our truths? They are too vast for this world. We make do. Those we touch show promise Wondering at twilight-clad buildings And marvelling at autumn mornings We hold them, touch them, know them. We pass through Their hearts and minds Like a cool breeze On a summer’s day - Planting murmurs And whispers of truth For them to unwrap like a gift.

By | 2017-08-27T00:27:26+00:00 June 8th, 2016|Poetry|Comments Off on Otherworld Renaissance

Corrupted Animation

Damned, desecrated, defiled. Reality hidden in fairytales: Carefully orchestrated and well lit. The most intimate desires of the mind Imprinted on tissue-thin skin. Telling tales of who we want to be, Not who we are. The truth of ourselves Carefully concocted in story. Papering over the scars, Creating illusions of beauty. Fantasy wanted. Perfection inside your mind. The hands that covet your flesh Are Prince Charmings’. Socially acceptable objectification - Ugly stepsisters need not apply. It’s harsh out there Where it rains shards of glass Where love can be robbery, Where dreams can be nightmares - And to stand on [...]

By | 2017-08-27T00:36:21+00:00 May 27th, 2016|Poetry|Comments Off on Corrupted Animation

The Wanderer’s Curse

Foreboding words Fall from my lips, Coded emotions proffering A perfunctory kiss. Et tu, Judas? Unwillingly. The crashing waves Match my pounding heart. The ebb and flow of the waves Reminiscent of our emotional tide. I'm so sorry. Me too. Sorrows tumble in a bid to be free; The truth has lain between us. If you stumble, it's in the places I've held myself back from you. I cannot go. I cannot stay. This shipwreck of you and I Once sailed calm waters. But we've set our course now And are bound to our inevitable conclusion. I wanted to be [...]

By | 2017-08-27T00:38:16+00:00 May 18th, 2016|Poetry|Comments Off on The Wanderer’s Curse

The Gilded Cage

I. It called to me with Siren’s song, Speaking to me in the language of home. Of safety, security and family, Of unity and love. It spun me beautiful tales, of castles in the air woven from nothing more than dreams, and held together with laughter and dances under moonlit skies. It reeled me in with enticing scents and teasing kisses: this dark spell made up of fragmented light. It leaves you with kaleidoscope vision; dizzy and spinning you can’t see the truth that lies shadowed beyond the gilded bars of the most beautiful of all cages. II. There was [...]

By | 2017-08-27T00:48:05+00:00 July 12th, 2015|Poetry|Comments Off on The Gilded Cage

Second Generation Spite

Second-generation spite sits upon righteous skin and seeps through the cracks like bitter poison; leaving us open to soul-infected afflictions that wound irrevocably in their righteous assurance. It creeps insidiously through our veins,masking its truth with mimicry: leaving nothing but a vicious masquerade of hatred and disdain dressed up to look like justice.

By | 2017-09-19T20:01:30+00:00 June 27th, 2015|Poetry|Comments Off on Second Generation Spite