I’m excited to have three poems accepted for online zine In Between Hangovers. One is already up on the website, and two others are forthcoming! This poem, “Superheroes”, is one I wrote for another publication but it got rejected. I was going to put it on my website but decided that I really liked it and maybe someone else would like it enough to publish it, too. I’m glad I put it back out into the wild! Here it is – Superheroes at In Between Hangovers.
Tag: amwriting
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don’t refer me to a surgeon
don’t refer me to a surgeon,
refer me to a good friend.
give me a letter urging me
to go to the pub immediately.don’t refer me to the hospital,
refer me to jack daniels.
after all, he is a specialist
in these things.don’t refer me to a doctor
refer me to my boyfriend
send me home to do nothing
just refer me back to bed. -
nothing freewrite
I did a free write and this is what came out.
Everything starts with I. It’s like there is nothing else to talk about but myself and the wind, the storm, the loss. So much loss. I don’t think I even care about when it will end or why, just that one day there will
be peace and there will be sunshine. There is no stopping it. I know that now there is nothing except the wind in my face and its strength is determined by some unknown weatherman who decides these things. Who decides these things? Not me, that’s for sure. There is a breeze or there is a gale or there is something between the two but there is no rest for the wind now, there is no rest for the wind. Sometimes I think that there is fire and the wind will spread it. The
wind will turn the flames bluer than they have ever been. And there will be snow. And there will be gusts, so much of a gust, and no guts, no guts left for me. Nothing left of me. Windswept, scooped up and carried away on a tail, on a sheet, in a sack, something taken in broad daylight – not in the dead of night. -
living in fog
the fog contains all the
bad thoughts, all the
worst possible outcomes,
all the harshest parts of reality
and descends
familiar lands turned foreign
even time is warped –
the turn of the day barely signalled.the fog isn’t malleable
you can’t make anything
out of it except things that
are beautiful in an ugly way
and even then it’s a
matter of opinion.one day it will lift
but the end is
impossible to see
because the fog
doesn’t simply shroud –
it steals, with no promise
of replacement. -
Midlands
“The world should be GOLD today!”
the sun declares, and gathers up its
friends – the tiny mirror images of itself
from far-flung beaches. It summons the
wind to lift them all and scatter them
into the sky, too high for definition,
turning blankets of grey cloud a murky yellow
like the edges of boiled egg yolks, somewhere
between grime and daffodil, headlights
dispersed over rain showers. Humans
look on and wonder if they will ever see
the sky blur and bloom like this again.
Like buttercups. Like the second coming.Stunned by the spectacle, the leaves finally
live up to their name and throw themselves
at the earth’s feet, worshipping the sun with their
bronzed backs arched, before being spun like
caramel into the sky, into heaven.Summer? What summer? Now is the time
for storms, a hailing of autumn, the opening
of winter’s doors. -
five minutes
find a corner
that doesn’t look
too grubby.
s l i d e
down the wall until
you are twice folded –
bottom on the floor, arms
around your knees
try to resist the urge
to rock back and forth
fail
let your head fall forward
close your eyes
shut it out
shut it all out
pull yourself inward
stretch the aching
small of your back
make yourself
small
smaller
smaller
pretend you have
disappeared
just for a few minutes
just give yourself
five minutes
here. -
New Poems Published!
I have four poems in this anthology, Dandelion In A Vase of Roses! Available in paperback and on Kindle.
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caged
someone opened the cage door
but I have nowhere to fly to.
I fear my wings won’t take me
far enough. what is the outside
world like? which way is right?
who would want me to fly to them
anyway? I’m sure I’ve no idea. they
might as well just shut me in. here I
will collect dust while those
around me take flight. I don’t
know where to fly or if I’m even
capable of flying, much less
going on my own. -
Writing work
In reference to my last blog post, it did pass. Sometimes it helps just to stop thinking and let yourself be distracted. So, all is well. In this moment at least, and isn’t that the most important moment?
Today I’ve been at my job, doing a little uni work, and planning my trip to Stockholm this summer. I’ve also put a newsletter subscription form on my site so people can sign up for my latest nonsense, if that’s the kind of thing you like to subject yourself to!
Plus, today I wrote a limerick, which is slightly out of character for me! I’ve put it on my Patreon page, so that makes it even more exclusive. I’m sure my hundreds of patrons (ha) will really enjoy it! If you have a burning desire to read my limerick and other stuff I only post on my Patreon page, $1 per month is a pretty good deal for reading all my gibberish. Join me there!
