Since 2017, I’ve been a part of the London spoken word poetry community, hopping from open mics to poetry slams to gigs, sharing my poetry with people. And seeing as March marks the first time I ever performed at an open mic, I thought it would be fun to reflect on my journey, and think about 5 things I wish I knew before I became a spoken word poet.
So hello everyone! I’m sorry for disappearing for so long, but I have a VERY GOOD REASON! I RELEASED MY DEBUT AUDIOBOOK!!! I’m so so excited for you guys to hear it, so I’ve attached a little preview of the final track of the audiobook to the bottom of this post. All I really wantedContinue reading “I RELEASED AN AUDIOBOOK!”
An amalgamation of one or two lines from every poem I’ve written for my AgoraPoetry series! Enjoy that’s like clouds without the sky. my voice has its own poweran ignition, somewhere. as though a faraway brush has brought us all into existence up up and up it is no surprise now the whispers of warmthContinue reading “Pastiche”
this tea, was made byso many hands,i cannot count them alleach leaf gently kissedeach finger and as i sip,each of theirnameless handsdissolves oneach of my tastebudswith a satisfying ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Had a blast collabing with A Writer’s Bee on this seasonally appropriate post! Check out our thoughts on our favourite poems from Allie Esiri’s collection ‘A Poem for Every Autumn Day’. A Writer Bee Today’s post is a special one (and posted outside our normal schedule…the scandal). I have a special guest PM, a spokeContinue reading “A Poem for Every Autumn Day”
now, you are a friend,old anxiety, present,breathing out, lightly.
let me tell you the secrets of my day, the whispers of warmthwho greeted me in the morning,who returned only when the nighthad swallowed the sun. in the spacesleftbetween them, my day lay, and stretched hercat-like selfacross every hour, minute, and second,grazing on the clock-handsI fed her. quietly,when no-one waslistening, I stole them, to endContinue reading “On Rest”
the breeze was the first child to have been born, the first animals heard her criesheard her shreaks as she used the trees to rattlethe ground to danceher tears so large no river could curb. it is no surprise now,as she has grown old and wise,she uses the trees to rest,the ground to dream, andContinue reading “A new Friend”
I imagine tiny rain drops,with tiny faces,all peeling themselves off the floorlifting their heavy, tiny bodies,upupand up to return home.