A Self-Care Quarantine Bath – NaPoWriMo #4

NaPoWriMo 2020, Poetry

For a really long time I had no idea what to say about the quarantine. I didn’t really have any words to describe what I was feeling. Then I FINALLY managed to find some in my brain, and stiched them together to make this poem. Enjoy!

We stood at the end of the world,
and stared long and hard.

But everything appeared strangely still:

No bloodied bodies, no mangled corpses, no flames to lick them and swallow them whole.

the grass beneath us
with every sunlight beam
spun in delight,
curving itself to reach the clouds.  m

So, we let it feed on our swords and pitchforks,
let them grow moss like wigs atop their heads,
and returned indoors.

But even still,
we are fighting.

Some mornings
the dressing gown is tied so tightly,
it is more noose than negligee.

Some afternoons
the dining table is laid so neatly,
it is more confinement than contentment.

And in the evenings, 
when clocks become a glaring reminder
of all those hours that have been held hostage,
it is harder to push forward into
another twenty-four.

But even still,
we are learning.

Learning to let the hours sit with us in the bath,
and merge together
like a watercolour painting.

Sometimes, the only colour I see is grey.

But today, I think
I may have seen a
hint of green creep its way up through the bubbles,
as the grass stretched itself through the windows
to come say hello.

Des Voeux Road West, Hong Kong – NaPoWriMo #2

NaPoWriMo 2020

Hello all! Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem about a speicfic place. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my first apartment in my semester abroad last year in Hong Kong and what a nice place it was (sometimes), so here you go – enjoy! πŸ™‚

Des Voeux Road West never faced west,
only towards the other blocks opposite ours. 

Each morning,
my foot was met with a bunk-bed ladder
too slippery for
any human 
who had slept through the sweatiness of night. 

But, I'm convinced it wasn't meant for
human legs,
since each night the scurrying of thistly legs decorated the wooden floorboards, as a woosh of red went past us and 

The tssst of cockroach repellent was a tune we knew well,
a prayer song we'd sing
each night
to keep those sinful creatures away.

Each day, 
we, unwilling pilgrims, travelled by feet to the 6th floor 
or lok 
locked the door yet?
We couldn't 
- the handles had to be turned in opposite directions,
each afternoon shop 
meant sticky custard buns by the time 
entry was permitted. 

When the buns had been bitten,
and stories of the workday distributed with them,

the Bunks craddled us to sleep
and told us their their stories of a better Hong Kong,
where agorabphobia trembled at us leaving the house,
and police had vanished, so
the fish-smelling, Cantonese-yelling road lay ahead,
just for us.

And then we awoke at sunrise,
with buildings lain before us,

NaPoWriMo #21 – w/o

NaPoWriMo 2019

Sometimes I think of what life would be without you. basically it would be terrible. my world upside down, the tears would fall from the ceiling and choke me. A wet, empty bed. The sheets on the floor, only because I couldn’t be bothered to put them on. No one will be coming here. The uncaged bird flies into the fan and splatters everywhere. Blood falls from the ceiling and chokes me.


free verse, Poetry

Hey everyone! Apologies for not posting last week, BUT I have a good reason, because on Saturday I was at the UK National Poetry Slam! I am happy to announce that I came in 3rd place! I had spent so much time practicing that I didn’t have enough energy to write a post. BUT I’m back!! AND here with a NEW POEM 😱😱😱😎😎πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯ I wrote this about how recently I’ve finally been able to take control of my negative feelings rather than get stuck in them. Enjoy!

Your hand slips between your lips 
and lifts all her fingers inside.
She’s not lost anymore,
walks straight past the canines (sharp!)
takes a right at the left molar
2 paces South of the Tongue and
-- aha!

The Oesophagus.

Butterfly – Flash Fiction #2

Short Stories & Flash Fictions

This week I decided to take inspiration from other prompts, and head over to BookFox for 50 Flash Fiction Prompts. It’s great if you’re stuck for ideas, since they’re categorised by genre which makes it so helpful! I went for this prompt this time, under Microprompts:

Write about the dramatic moment a butterfly emerges from its cocoon.

Ode to my broken piano

On the days that I do not love you
my love looks nothing like love.
In fact, it looks much like
not quite
the opposite
but an
in between state:
A half-working key,
an almost soundless note
pressed against my finger-tips.