WORDS: she asks herself and asks again. as her voice breaks like floral porcelains, she picks up the pieces. it
WORDS:A lucid mirageFaint elusive memoriesReason redundant. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank you for watching!
WORDS:A book never used,Left untouched gathering dust.Potential wasted. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank you for watching!
WORDS:A hand that neverlabour. Yet clings to prayer,asks for starvation. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank you
WORDS:at the dark red dusk, the monsoon flooded raining kerosene and paraffin trickles of oil lashed like lightning leaving imprint
WORDS: A stolen laughter, Becomes broken bitternessSeized from sincere souls. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank you
WORDS:Echoed voice dancing,On the tepid mouth of speech.Borders are now mute. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank
WORDS: a shame is coming, lurking over the horizon. it hisses, coughs and laughs. wanting its presence known. brewing in
Poem When we two partedIn silence and tears,Half broken-heartedTo sever for years,Pale grew thy cheek and cold,Colder thy kiss;Truly that
WORDS: Examine the flailing weeks fold itself like paper;as it cuts the days, tucks in the minutes and creases the
A split in the soil. Drought across the Saharan. Silence the nomads. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank you
WORDS: vacuum darkens the mind. with the skin pleading against the light, there the sears of charcoal singe the barren
i. my word is a heron trying to swallow its fish but the bare bones spike against the bitter bills.
Callous feet walked through Fire. A searing flame steaming Souls. Flames of desire Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank
WORDS: at 3.am the news wades on the white Calla- lily porcheach held breath praysprobing for the serenity of the
A sombre season Where light fades and dark brightens There silver strands align. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank
Waterfall (Haiku) A soft staccato Smoothly singing southwards Rapid droplets dance. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank you for
Carrying maps we movethrough battlegrounds and trails,roadways, displays andmuseums built of alabasteron swamps in cities marked withEuropean names Following blue
if i could change a thoughtand have clarity transparent like a brook i would think for me. if i could
Seaside (Haiku) When the weeping waves Hides its tears in bitter sands Pebbles mediate. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel
a silhouette shawled in titanium with footsteps soft as silk. a graceless poise pierces the back promising a land of
Your boat is moored on the black canal and the woman is playing the cello for you, long low notes
Sunrise (Haiku) The silent sunrise Sits softly on the lake’s ripples, Without permission. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube Channel Thank
When the sight glazed across the journey, the lips let out a prayer so swift like the years of the
Eye Level is a short poetry collection written by Jenny Xie published this year. When reading any poetry collection, I
building hands bristled and bruised turns heaviness into light and the ugly tears streaming from the broken but beautiful hearts
Rain (Haiku) When the clouds are crying, Land absorbs with apathy. Whilst the sea dances. Please like, comment and subscribe
When emotions are excessive and the mind cannot cope. Close the eyes and imagine each strand. Dangling like chandelier pieces.
Autumn (Haiku) Autumn sings golden, eulogy probing summer , |on its stolen leaves. Please like, comment and subscribe to my YouTube
The shards of bottles and debris on the road sinks into the bare feet. The crimson liquid trickles upward. The
Grass (Haiku) Blades of emerald, Sway to the wind’s lullaby. A sad futile tune. Please like, comment and subscribe to
When the voice was stolen and she could sing no more, the frown formed and the lines found solace on
Daisy Chains (Haiku) A honey centred, Milky petaled woven crown Youthful hands designs. Thank you for watching and listening. I
Before deciding to walk in her shoes let her show you her feet. The callous blisters tarnished by the stones
As the television transmits the news unable to peel the callous layers of her mind. She owns a seared conscience
Lavender (Haiku) A soft scent soothes us. Through healing in its aura, A therapy tale. You can also
A rainbow formed after the raindrops and the sunlight kissed the vapour. Melting the chaos and illuminating the future. A
Cherry Blossom (Haiku) A bold infusion, bleeds fuchsia deeply. A petal falls eastward. Please like, comment and subscribe to
I am collecting all the thank you I have ever received. I’m gathering them up to burn it and have
Bitter Waters (Translated by Shash Trevett) See these lines on my upturned palm. They are the rivers of tears that
Writing haikus has been a simple yet complex process because I am aware that the English form of haikus is
The silver swan, who living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat, Leaning her breast against the
What do you say to me? When you’re done selling broken dreams? Whilst tears fall down my cheeks like bitter
Imagine a garden An elusive garden. You walk past the willow tree It reflects your silenced state. Yet you do
A seed seeking sunlight swells and sweats. Through its seed coat. Shooting taproot in the soil. Submerged it pokes its
A Guest May Come by Vojka Djikic (Translated by Chris Agee) Hold on tight to me And we’ll find the
A droplet of despair Dripping from once-dried tear ducts. Flowing frequently A flimsy attempt to hold them Piece it together
This collection titled ‘You Took The Last Bus Home’ by Brian Bilston is a funny collection of poems. Although this
Peace stood still like a tree Asking the wind to call all nations both bond and free. A valley of
Sunset and sunrise can be as beautiful as hellos and goodbyes. At each instance, it doesn’t matter if your heart
Between Clay and Star is the first major poetry translation book I have read and much to my surprise, it
Speech tangled in tone. A vivid sociolect. Culture chants deeply.
A soft scent soothes us, Through healing in its aura. A therapy tale.
When the moonlight reflects a mirage Wait for the sun to say it’s an illusion. Don’t rely on the mind
A song of poison spewed on the silent lips. She gathered it and let it salsa on her tongue. Then
I expected the earth to shift And oceans to be set adrift. At the spark of our lips Under this
Like a peacock spreading its feathers, I span out my feelings. Like hands holding each other, I long for this
Look at my glass house but don’t throw stones For sticks and stones may break my home. This fragile abode
One foot down, then hop! It’s hot. Good things for the ones that’s got. Another jump, now to the left.
I am abstract. So you’d need to extract, What I mean with songs, paintings, words and emotions. My mind works
I will not be able to calm the storm Nor promise you that I’d walk on water. Yet if you
Helium is a short poetry collection written by Rudy Francisco. It explores various facets of life such as love, mental
At a cross way with a cold chorus, Promise was left to be pious. On the right hand of promise
Kingdom of Gravity is a poetry collection written by Nick Makoha. This collection explores a range of topics such as
The world has felt your wrath before. We felt your violent shake and your ravenous storm. We give new names
Beatitude By Nick Makoha (2017) When a rebel leader promises you the world seen in commercials, he will hold a
I say it with her. I say it for her. Then I let her say it with and for herself.
my mother moved out of her body decided it was no longer worthy it couldn’t contain her laughter she couldn’t
An unjustifiable criteria Determined by a crooked line Spewed out to split the equator into two. I’ve heard the names
Like the yesterday of creation morning she had imagined this new world to be bereft of fecundity No she wasn’t
Take me to the river To wade by the water in the winter moonlight. In the depths of the river
The Sun And Her Flowers is a poetry collection written by Rupi Kaur. This collection deals with a range of
What The Dead Know By Donte Collins (2017) lately, when asked how are you, i respond with a name no longer
I looked into her eyes and smiled. But what could smiling prove. When I could see me in her eyes.
What Were They Like By Denise Levertov 1. Did the people of Viet Nam use lanterns of stone? 2. Did
My mind is awake My mouth is numb. My soul a lake, I’m deaf and dumb. My mind is awake.
You will hear thunder and remember me, And think she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the
Lost. In the deep sea of my own desire. In the fortitude of peace my soul longs to retire. Hope
Dreams soar high on the mountain top. Holding onto hope so it never drops. Liberty flowing in harmony with the
Heavy with child belly an arc of black moon I squat over dry plantain leaves and command the earth to
A dream is a living legacy which cannot be killed by death. Transcends emancipation. It transcends liberty. In fact, it
I walked a mile with Pleasure; She chattered all the way, But left me none the wiser For all she
Stage one is characterised by fear. The entity that floats to a mind. Inviting itself in and out like a
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand
Why live in denial? When you could be free. Why live in denial? When you could just let situations be.
Denial is saying yes when you mean no. Whilst the choice rests with you. The choice lies peacefully as you
We sit on benches As the words in my throat clenches Some on the field. Where daisies and dandelions
Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done
I know even though I don’t live on the estate. Devolution is the politician’s word for recreate… Rebrand and make
This blog post will analyse the poem ‘On My First Sonne’ by Ben Jonson which is written below: On My
Defying the estate stereotype, Jack decided to be the perfect prototype. He went to university. Just to face employment adversity.
In this blog post, an analysis of the poem ‘My Father Is A Retired Magician’ will be made. The poem commence with
Our people are broken; But what would happen if the community had spoken? If it had said we are here
I remember putting so much effort into childhood and youth. For I perceived it as the core of my root.
I rested calmly by the sea shore. Content with where I am I dare not ask for more. Until the day I was picked up from the beach floor. To skid upon the water like one, two, three and four. So I discovered life anew.
The Elements By Hannah Williams© What is beneath the soil? Is it gold? Is it minerals? Is it oil?
Men are from Mars. Women are from Venus. So who lives on earth? Men are from Mars. Women are from
A grain in the Sahara is me. Take a handful to see. That I am distinct. But me and the
A city where dreams can be snatched. Even when your ambition is matched. Your dreams mean nothing in the city.
I walk by Aylestone meadow. Where birds sing and the tree’s follow. The woodland’s air I breathe The canal bed
At this hour I learnt to weep silently. Sitting in the silence. Speaking with my darkness. My remedy for a
I wore moodiness as a dress. With a matching headband called stress, My handbag conceals my emotions which are a
I know there is love within me. I know its there but others cannot see. For this love is
I’m a lonely ocean. Kissing the shore. Moving with its motions. Longing for more. I’m a lonely ocean. Looking for
My Guilt By Dr. Maya Angelou My guilt is “slavery’s chains,” too long the clang of iron falls down the