Writing on Wednesdays #6

Sometimes,  I wonder if the universe is watching, cradling my fate like a nurturing mother, looking on with plans beyond my comprehension, holding all the good things that are yet to come, close to her heart, like a winning hand, ready to make up for all the pain. But when I stare up at those… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #6

Writing on Wednesdays #1

How wondrous we are. Lightning flashes on a dark night. Searching for other souls, like electricity searches for the ground. How incandescent, luminous, phosphorescent and florid. Burning too hot and bright for too shorter time. A raging fire, of life, life, life. Sending sparks up into the sky, the remains of us, planting themselves to… Continue reading Writing on Wednesdays #1

The Process of Drafting Poetry.

*Apologies for the post being a day late* I always find the romantic image of a poet, sat by a tree, freely writing, taking inspiration from the muse, idyllic but...unrealistic. I very very rarely post a poem I have written on this blog or on my Instagram that I haven't mercilessly picked apart, edited, crossing words out,… Continue reading The Process of Drafting Poetry.

Back to Black: revisiting dark matter and poetry.

Last year, in the early summer after I had completed my dissertation for Uni, I had one last creative writing portfolio to complete. This portfolio ended up taking the form of a collection called 'Documents on The Mysteries of Dark Matter', comprising of experimental poetry that focused on the idea of dark matter, dark energy… Continue reading Back to Black: revisiting dark matter and poetry.

The Dweller of The Hills and Woodland.

Up on the downs, in amongst the looming grass, your almond eyes watching. The angry, bloodthirsty world at your tail. See through the fog, see through the trees and run. Run. Run. Run. Though your enemies may be in their thousands, little prince of the woodland and the warren; your bones are fearless and everlasting.… Continue reading The Dweller of The Hills and Woodland.

Frisson.

Kaleidoscope my mind. I am one and I am many. The beats and swaying motions creep up my back, like the moonlight in my dreams, a finite moment of rushing melodies. Bumps speaking braille, mapping my body like a track. Catalyse my catharsis. I am no one and I am myself. Carry my spirit up,… Continue reading Frisson.