All posts tagged: poet

Playing With Polyptotons #DVersePoets

Slipping I slipped deeper on every word you spoke, caught up in the letters like giants and their fingers pinioned and pyloned at the edges of my reason, they made a fence around my certainty. Territorial of territory you deemed dangerous you became guard dog reversed. All teeth and snarl when I made to leave. Or maybe that was me biting the hand at my collar…

Self-Publishing: Planning A Launch, Holding The Proof

Back in June I talked about my plans to self-publish my poetry collection, in a post I called To Self-Publish Or Not To Self-Publish? That Is The Sleep Depriving Question. In all honesty, it really was a tough decision to make, and I questioned myself every time I told someone I was self-publishing because I almost always got the same response. ‘Oh, why have you decided to go down that route?’ At that point in the conversation I could point them towards the blog post where I list all the reasons I decided┬áto go down that route. Of course it wasn’t all smooth sailing from writing that post to finalising the manuscript. There were moments where I wondered if I was making a huge mistake and if I had made the right decision to following this path. However, today I finally felt that it was all worth it. Today I got to hold the proof copy of my poetry collection in my hands.   There are still a few tweaks to be made before I’m …

Your Majesty #TuesdayPoetics

Always pointed in words and pose.   Perfect poise, perfect response, perfect timing.   Held yourself above the rest of us.   My own feet too leaden.   My words dropped like iron anchors through deck and hull. Took the ship down with me.   You reached or so I thought when I grasped for your hand.   You were simply gesturing to the view beyond.  

Roots and Branches #DVersePoetics

Half this family tree has been watered until the branches hang heavy with fruit.   We know all the name, if not the faces, see the resemblance in the variety.   On the other side we know much less, can’t quite feast on what is left.   There are wanderers in this blood, apples that fell far and wide and distant.   Strangers in stranger places bobbed, grew their own trees from loose cores.   People put down roots, grew branches, spread the distance between lines.          

Standing The Test #WeekendWritingPrompt

Cup the whole of me in one hand. Hold my belly up to a light, judge my origins, if I might be the real deal.   Examine my spine carefully through this sheen of skin while I burn like paper, edges curling in as I smoke.   Test the me between teeth, bite down, heads up, crack your enamel on my silver forked tail.   Spit me free with blood and tooth and every question asked to test the mettle in me.   Wonder why I leave with a word like love so sour in my mouth I choke.

Walking These City Streets #DVersePoetics

We walk till our soles protests at every stop-sign and crossing place. Like stitch splitting when you slow for breath, the burn thickens.   We are far from home, further still from familiar, so we cannot pause on this side-street, or linger on a corner place as we might do elsewhere.   We can stretch our steps, gnash the concrete paves into cobbles and pathways. Break highways down to track.   Trip over the ache beneath onto older ground. Learn how to read reassurances of new landmarks.   Wander until this is home.