This is my first major speech as Prime Minister – and I am going to address the first priority of this government: transforming our economy. What came first? The chicken or the egg. Today, Britain is at a turning point. The decisions we make now will live with us for decades to come. For manyContinue reading “Chicken/Egg | NaPoWriMo #6”
Tag Archives: poetry writing
Tired Words | NaPoWriMo #5
Frankly, I’m tired. And so are my words, so I watch them tuck themselves into bed — .
Your Plant | NaPoWriMo #2
Softly. Softly. Lattice in the seeds. Softly. Softly. Latch upon the soil. Slowly. Slowly. Sit with the sunrise. Gently. Gently. Kiss the earth. Softly. Softly. Kip the passion. Softly. Softly. Lay upon the soil. Slowly. Slowly. Lather it with snot. Gently. Gently. Sit by its roots. Softly. Softly. See the seed push through soil. Gently.Continue reading “Your Plant | NaPoWriMo #2”
Giraffe | NaPoWriMo #1
We find ourselves in chairs comfortable, near enough to feel his knees, his breath. We watch one another, with eyes full of all the faces aside from the one before us. But still, we change the scene, and draw our mouths up towards eyes trying to uncrack stiff faces so that something, anything, will happen.Continue reading “Giraffe | NaPoWriMo #1”
I RELEASED AN AUDIOBOOK!
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!”
A new Friend
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”
The Painter
Photocopied trees circle me,And I feel as though I am being painted,As though a far away brush has brought us all into existence– Then a child runs too carelessly,falls on their face,And the painting is slightly torn.
Anxiety Retold: a blackout poem
Robbed
A poem because I’m a sad young person.
First-Act Curtain
‘As I grew older, I began to feel a different, yet familiar, emotion in the same part of my heart – experiencing something so real but wondrous you feel as if you’re in a dream’ – @christinemaricomics When I am there,when I feel every spark and crackle against my heartbeat, I don’t feel like dreaming.I feelContinue reading “First-Act Curtain”
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