My Interview with Host DBoss on Real Life Matters TV Show

Yesterday I had a lovely conversation with host DBoss from Real Life Matters TV show about my new book of poetry Despair and Hope and my journey as a writer. The Real Life Matters TV show airs on various TV channels and networks in North America and the UK like DBossNetworks, CaribVision, BellFibeTV. The interview was recorded yesterday, it will air tonight at 10 PM EST, but it is also available on YouTube. Don't miss it!

My book Despair and Hope is available on Amazon around the world, both print and Kindle editions, by searching “Victoria West Despair and Hope” in All Departments or directly in Books/Kindle Store. The Kindle edition is also part of Kindle Unlimited.

Thank you for all your support!

POEM: The Alien

What on earth is happening on this planet?

What on earth is happening?

What on earth?

On earth?

What is happening on earth?

I used to love this lush blue planet.

It used to be my favorite vacation spot in the galaxy.

And look at it now, recklessly overconsumed.

All their treasures are gone.

Oh, dear God, if I had the privilege to live on this precious planet,

I wouldn’t take it for granted the way these silly earthlings do.

They obnoxiously think they will have it forever, what a delusion.

I would give up an arm and a leg to be its citizen,

Too bad they don’t acknowledge aliens.

And apparently, they don’t know the difference between male and female anymore.

How on earth do they reproduce, if they don’t know who’s male, who’s female?

Or should I say, how do they reproduce on earth?

They will implode themselves into extinction.

Where is that galaxy atlas of mine,

Time to find another blue retreat.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my book of poetry Despair and Hope (2024), page 17.

POEM: The Café in Paris

There was this time in Paris on Champs-Elysées,

You and I were sipping coffee at a corner café,

It was a bright morning,

We had an astonishing view of the Arc de Triomphe.

You looked into my eyes and said,

I love you,

And I looked into your eyes and said,

I love you too.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my book of poetry Despair and Hope (2024), page 100.

POEM: Despair and Hope

I thought there couldn’t be anything worse than a global pandemic,

Yet we find ourselves on the edge of destruction again.

We live in a hopeless world,

But I still choose to nurture hope.

We need hope.

We must hold on to hope.

Hope is all we’ve got.

I trust humanity will overcome the despair.

I trust we will see better days.

I trust we will see hope.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my poetry collection Despair and Hope (2024), page 81.

POEM: Time

What is time but our planet’s movement around its star,

And the star’s movement in its galaxy?

We fantasize about time travel,

But the truth is

We’re too small in the face of the Universe to change its laws.

Our only chance is to move forward,

Because the Universe moves forward.

Time is this social construct that we invented for ourselves to make sense of it better,

But in reality

It will be here with or without us,

For as long as the Universe exists.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my new book of poetry Despair and Hope (2004), page 93.

POEM: The Solstice

They say summer starts today.

Today is the longest day.

I sit on my porch and soak in the sun,

Up until the very last moment of it,

Till the last bit of sunshine.

The last sunrays of the day gently kiss my skin.

It’s always a glorious day,

The longest day.

There is only one sour note about the longest day of the year –

All the other days are inevitably shorter.

But the sweet note is that there are still many sunny days ahead,

And I will embrace them all.

The days after the solstice may go shorter,

But the summer goes ripe once its longest day is over.

~~~~~~~~~

From my book of poetry Despair and Hope (2024), page 95.

My New Book of Poetry "Despair and Hope", Available on Amazon

My dear friends and readers, I am extremely happy and excited to share some great news with you today – my new book of poetry, Despair and Hope, has just been released. The book was published in May 2024 and is available on Amazon in Canada, the US, the UK, Continental Europe, Australia, Japan. The Kindle ebook edition of Despair and Hope will be released this coming June 2024.

About the book

Despair and Hope by Canadian writer and poet Victoria West is a collection of poetry dedicated to our human spirit and resilience. It’s a book inspired by the current post-pandemic times we live in. The poems reflect the social unrest of recent years, such as culture wars, the war in Ukraine, the post-pandemic struggles of humanity. Part I, “Despair”, captures a range of darker feelings and emotions, which are brought back to light in Part II, “Hope”.

About the author

Victoria West started writing about fashion in Toronto when she founded the blog FashionStyleBeautyandMore.blogspot.com in 2010, which later became VictoriaWest.net. She has written as a fashion contributor for various online and print publications in Canada, the US, and Romania for a decade (2010-2020). In 2020, she started writing poetry as a reaction to the global pandemic. Victoria is the author of three books – Bits of Fashion (essays and interviews, 2013), Sunset in Toronto (poetry, 2021), and Despair and Hope (poetry, 2024). Originally from Europe, Victoria West has been a resident of Toronto for many years now, where she lives with her husband and son.

Official website: VictoriaWest.net

I hope you'll enjoy my new book! Please check it out on Amazon (links below). Please also help spread the love and consider writing a book review or posting an opinion about my book of poetry Despair and Hope on Amazon, GoodReads, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Twitter, YouTube, or any other social media platforms.

Thank you for your support!

Amazon.ca – Despair and Hope

Amazon.com – Despair and Hope

Amazon.co.uk – Despair and Hope

Photo credit: Victoria West

POEM: Inspiration

She’s a lovely but moody lady.

She doesn’t come to me when I call her,

Or when it’s a good time for me to write.

She only comes to me when she pleases.

My book depends on her, literally.

There wouldn’t be a book if it weren’t for her.

So, I learned to listen to her when she wants to speak up.

I learned to make her creating mood work for me.

I treat her with coffee and cookies when she makes an appearance.

We sit together at the table when she visits,

And we start writing.

I absorb every word she says,

And I let her lead the way.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my book of poetry Sunset in Toronto, page 122.

POEM: The Emperor's New Clothes

The emperor decides to update his wardrobe.

He hires two tailors for the job.

Apparently, they are the best tailors in the kingdom.

Everybody raves about them.

The tailors arrive at the palace.

Work starts with no delay.

But there is a catch.

Only the worthy can wear the magnificent robes created by the skillful tailors.

If you are unworthy, it will not fit.

Work in progress.

The council comes to see how it goes.

But every time a courtier checks on the tailors,

They squirm uncomfortably in the shop.

What is going on here?

Am I seeing things?

Do my eyes deceive me?

Did I get it all wrong?

Were my beliefs for nothing?

Do I doubt myself now?

Am I unworthy?

But I must not say anything out loud,

Or else, I am doomed.

I would rather live in fear and not speak up than face the naked truth.

Instead, I say,

What a marvelous creation!

And I clap along.

The parade day comes.

Everybody is joyful.

The emperor wears his new clothes, loudly and proudly.

Are you worthy or are you unworthy?

Townsfolk fidget in discomfort.

The same thought crosses everyone’s mind,

And one could see it splattered on every forehead around.

But no one dares say a single word,

For they don’t want to admit their unworthiness.

People clap half-heartedly.

What a spectacular attire!

Until the innocent child utters the truth.

The emperor is naked.

POEM: Poetry

I sit at my desk,

An open notebook in front of me.

My fingers tremble with anticipation.

The blank page stares back at me,

A canvas yearning for the brushstrokes of my words.

I close my eyes,

Seeking solace in the depths of my thoughts,

Where emotions intertwine and memories whisper.

And then, like an ethereal muse, inspiration begins to bloom.

Words dance in my mind, waiting to be brought together on the white page.

I grasp my pen,

And I let the ink flow freely,

Like a river finding its course.

Sentences form, weaving a tapestry of emotions and experiences.

Each word, carefully selected, holds the weight of my feelings, my longing, my pain.

It is in this sacred space that I find solace,

Where my heart spills onto the page and transforms into poetry.

POEM: International Women's Day

I wish you to be loved.

To be adored.

To be desired.

To be pampered.

To be beautiful.

To be cheerful.

To be fulfilled.

To be happy.

Not only on women’s day but on any day.

Happy International Women’s Day.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my book of poetry Sunset in Toronto, page 59.

POEM: The Japanese Maple Tree

My neighborhood looks the prettiest in the spring.

When I go for a walk in the park,

I notice the blooming trees along the street.

I take out my phone and photograph the blooms.

There is a Japanese maple tree in front of my neighbor’s house down the street. 

It’s rather unique,

And I am fascinated by this perfect creation of Mother Nature.

I stop in front of the house and take a few pictures of the tree.

My neighbor sees me from her house, and she gets out.

She encourages me to approach the tree and take closer pictures from her driveway.

I gather she is used to the attention that her precious Japanese maple tree is getting,

It’s the only one in our neighborhood.

I thank my neighbor for her kind gesture,

And don’t hesitate to come closer to the tree.

It is indeed special.

I gently touch the delicate red leaves; they feel like velvet.

Legend has it that the Japanese maple tree brings good fortune to the household where it grows.

It can reflect and absorb the happiness and the sadness of the people who live in the house.

When the members of the household are happy,

The red leaves of the tree are full of life and velvety rich.

When the family is struck by sadness,

The tree leaves are crying in pain.

Today, when I notice the tree,

Its leaves are full and velvety rich.

The tree looks happy,

And the family who lives in this house must be happy too.

How can you not be happy when such a marvel of nature brings you joy every single time you look outside the window?

And it brings you so much contentment that you want to share it with your neighbors.

Legend has it that the Japanese maple three brings good fortune to the household where it grows,

And this good fortune goes both ways.

The tree with the velvety red leaves brings joy to the family that takes care of it,

And in return the family lets the tree absorb their happiness,

A nourishing balm for the velvety red leaves.

~~~~~~~~~~

From my book of poetry Sunset in Toronto (2021), page 154.

POEM: Half

You are my other half.

My better half.

My kinder half.

My sweeter half.

My gentler half.

My dreamy half.

My dearest half.

My beloved half.

My all-time favorite half.

My one and only half.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My dear friends and readers,

As we celebrate this day dedicated to love and affection, may your heart overflow with joy and warmth. Whether you're spending the day with a significant other, cherished friends, or simply reveling in self-love, may it be filled with moments that make your soul dance and your spirit soar. On this Valentine's Day, let's embrace the beauty of love in all its manifestations and spread its light wherever we go.

On today's Day of Love, I would like to share with you two of my paintings that I did in 2019 (acrylic on canvas), when I just started painting as a new hobby -- Love and Family. Both of these paintings are dedicated to those whom I love the most, my husband and my son.

In the beginning, I was painting very two-dimensional, but I hope to develop my painting techniques to create more complex works in the future, I am self-taught when it comes to painting.

Love, 2019

Family, 2019

The second painting, Family, made a cameo appearance in my book of poetry Sunset in Toronto published in 2021 -- page 35, to accompany the poem I Wish I Were an Artist from page 34.

Art (in its many forms) is also a great gift for friends and family, so I gifted many of my paintings to my friends as well, on different occasions, such as birthdays, Christmas, housewarming gifts.

Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours!

Photo credit: Victoria West

POEM: Mona Lisa

I step into the grand hall of the Louvre,

My heart pounding with anticipation.

The whispers of countless visitors fill the air,

Blitz flashes incessantly,

But my focus remains unwavering.

I weave through the crowds,

Following the signs that lead me to her.

She’s the first one I want to see.

And then, there she is,

The enigmatic smile that has captivated hearts for centuries.

Mona Lisa.

I stand in awe, studying every brushstroke, every subtle hue,

As if deciphering a secret language.

The crowded room seems to fade away,

Leaving only her and me in a timeless moment.

The protective barriers that stand between her and the admirers seem to not matter anymore.

The sheer magnitude of her presence is overwhelming,

A testament to the power of art.

As I finally tear myself away,

I carry her image within me,

Forever etched in my mind,

A souvenir of my pilgrimage to the heart of Paris.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was devastated by the news at the Louvre Museum yesterday when two vandals attacked Mona Lisa. Such a sacrilege. The way how they decided to protest is not going to resolve the issue that they want to bring awareness to. If I were there, I would have dragged those two lunatics by their hair out of the museum. These two vandals (and anyone else who attacks art the same way) deserve to be banned from all museums and galleries of the world, forever. Luckily, they got arrested yesterday. But most importantly, Mona Lisa was not damaged, protected by her bulletproof glass wall.

I traveled to Paris and visited the Louvre for the first time in 2008. Mona Lisa was the very first exhibit that I wanted to see. The energy in the room where she resides was incredible that day. As it happened, it was also a Sunday. I had to wait in line for minutes to see her. Millions of people from all over the world come to Paris every year just to see her at the Louvre.

And then there are such scumbags who think they can change the world by throwing soup at THE MOST VALUABLE PAINTING IN THE WORLD, in the entire history of humanity.

I wrote this poem last year. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to visit the Louvre and see Mona Lisa.

Paris, Louvre, October 2008. Photo credit: Victoria West

POEM: The White Lighthouse

Standing tall and proud on the sandy shores of Lake Ontario,

The white lighthouse is a beacon of hope for sailors navigating treacherous waters.

Its gleaming façade contrasts beautifully with the azure sky and the deep blue expanse of the lake.

For generations, the lighthouse has faithfully guided ships to safety,

Its light cutting through the darkness like a celestial sword.

It has seen storms and serenity,

Witnessed tears of parting and joyous reunions,

Became a silent witness to the ebb and flow of life on the shore of the lake.

Townspeople have come to cherish the lighthouse for the sense of security and comfort it provides to all who lay eyes upon it.

Its stoic presence is a reminder of the enduring strength that guides them through life’s tempestuous seas.

The lighthouse comes alive when the sun sets below the horizon.

Its light flickers in the dusk,

Illuminating the darkening sky and announcing its unwavering commitment to safeguarding the sailors once more.

Seagulls soar gracefully around it,

Their calls adding a symphonic touch to the tranquil scene.

Families stroll along the shore,

Their laughter blending with the gentle lapping of the waves.

The night envelops the town.

The beam of the lighthouse stands firm, sweeping across the waters like a celestial brush,

Its dance casting a guiding path for ships yet to come.

Here, on the shore of Lake Ontario,

The white lighthouse remains a symbol of hope, resilience, and a community bastion.

A Love Poem

All I want on a cold winter day is a glass of wine, a book, and you.

I wake up every day grateful that you are still in my life.

I was born into this world to love you.

Love is everywhere. In my heart, my soul, my thoughts.

When I say I love you, I really mean I love you.

You’re the only one who can unlock my heart.

Your being away is torture for me, I’m counting the minutes until you’re back.

Don’t be afraid to give wings to your heart, I will catch it.

I love you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~

An experimental poem dedicated to love inspired by quotes about love from some of my short poems previously published on my social media pages.

POEM: The Antiques Shop

I’m on a road trip.

A journey of discovery.

I drive through the winding roads of the countryside.

On my way across the country,

I stumble upon a charming little town that seems almost frozen in time.

I am intrigued by its quaint atmosphere.

I decide to explore its streets on foot.

It doesn’t take long for a unique storefront to catch my eye.

It’s an antiques shop with a faded sign that reads “The Attic with the Memories”.

The moment I step inside,

A rush of nostalgia envelops me.

The shop is a treasure trove of forgotten artifacts,

Each of them whispering stories of days long gone.

Among the dusty shelves,

I spot an old journal,

Its leather cover showing signs of age.

I open it,

And a delicate handwriting from the sixties dances before my eyes,

Revealing the heartfelt words of a young woman in love.

Enthralled by the mysterious woman’s enchanting story,

I find myself lost in her world.

With each turn of the yellowed pages,

I become a witness to her hopes, dreams, and struggles.

Her words transport me to a time when love was innocent,

Handwritten letters were cherished,

And every emotion held a profound weight.

I can’t resist taking this precious memento home.

I will forever be captivated by the life and love of its owner.

Amid my road trip,

I am grateful that I have found a profound connection to a young woman who once walked these streets,

Penning her heart into this now-treasured journal which I will cherish like a priceless gem.

POEM: The Winter Solstice

On the eve of the winter solstice,

A serene hush descends upon the world.

Delicate snowflakes pirouette from the heavens,

Transforming the landscape into a pristine tableau of white.

The air is crisp,

And the silvery glow of the moon casts an ethereal sheen over the snow-covered earth.

Beneath the blanket of frost, the world seems to hold its breath in quiet reverence for the shortest day of the year.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and lavender,

People gather around fireplaces and candles,

Celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, warmth over cold.

With the arrival of the winter solstice,

Mother Nature embarks on her silent dance,

Marking the turning point in the celestial cycle.

As the night reaches its pinnacle,

The world prepares to bid farewell to the longest night and welcome the slow but steady return of daylight.

In the days that follow,

A subtle shift occurs,

Imperceptible to the impatient eye.

The sun’s ascent comes a fraction earlier each morning,

And the daylight is extended bit by bit,

Promising the gradual awakening of the earth from its winter slumber.

The winter solstice is not just the climax of darkness,

It symbolizes the inception of a hopeful journey towards spring,

As the days increase in length,

Mirroring the renewal of life and the promise of warmer days to come.

POEM: Resolutions

I’m not the kind of New Year’s Eve resolutions gal.

When the magic night between the years comes,

I hold on to the moment.

I raise the glass.

I kiss my love on the lips.

I wish for a happier new year.

What else do people have on their minds when the new year is here?

Read more books.

Travel more.

Exercise more.

Lose more weight.

Spend more time with friends and family.

Go to all the new restaurants in town.

Quit smoking.

Get married.

Find a new job.

I don’t say any of these things to myself at twelve o’clock when the old year leaves and the new one knocks at the door.

I would be disappointed should any of them not be achieved by the end of the new year.

Instead, I let it surprise me with its best to give.

And I simply say,

Happy New Year!

And I hope for the happiest of it.