Monthly Archives: April 2015

radical self love or why I don’t tell you I feel bad about my body that black and shimmer dress you all thought I looked amazing in last night I tried it on last week and took it off before … Continue reading →

There are many days weeks and months when I have bemoaned the airiness and coldness of this leaky cracked wall flat when I am blanket wrapped and freezing thought of the luxury double glazing could offer that silence it gives … Continue reading →

witnessed on the way to the bus stop rain battering the blossom from the trees washing it all down the drain reminded myself this gush of rain is needed for the lush growth to come the translucent leaves of early … Continue reading →

I owe poems its late and I decided to start having a go on the 30s type writer I have in the house because I have got fed up of having to hand write my poems (I was given the … Continue reading →

Today I am taking time with the rituals of tea. I make a body scrub to slough off winter of green and jasmine bags ripped open and salt and oil and then to drink. This isn’t the bag dunked in … Continue reading →

The white blossom which feels late but more in tune with the blossom of my childhood a sudden thought and nose rush of the large tree by the gate that shook over us the late not late blossom has started … Continue reading →

My love for you is still large and misplaced there is nothing you can give me but I still stole a daffodil from under one of the trees on the street near my house just for you. I can only hope … Continue reading →

Today walking my beautiful decrepit two toned flat tyred bike to my friend in the sun shine to replace the inner tube and as he always does to note all the quirks of a bike older than both of us … Continue reading →

Today’s poem was from this prompt where you address part of the poem: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-fifteen/ dear poem last night I dyed my fringe blue I look like a mermaid but had to don a cling film hairband to do it, have a … Continue reading →

Today’s poem is a conversation piece. I was talking the other day about how I was feeling really good about writing during a workshop things were flowing I was feeling confident and I was feeling like I had quelled that … Continue reading →