poetry

Rubbernecking

| Sheree

She’s called Daphe, the woman running the business training out of her Notting Hill home.

The Thames curves south from here by Chelsea, sluggish brown. The city’s awake and burning.

Have you been to see the damage yet? he asks, in our snatched conversation.

Almost gleeful in his hunger to hear details about the tower block which blazed leaving so many people missing or dead.

He says there’s photographs of the missing stuck to tree trucks, walls and railings. Black, brown and olive skinned and missing.

I don’t want to see this suffering. The ruins becoming a tourist attraction. Leave them with some dignity. Always having to endure the gaze in life and death.

The Outlook is Good

| Sheree

uncomfortable sensations which can only be described as pain course straight to the core

to release endorphins of joy

the outlook is better

the outlook is golden

the outlook is diamond

the outlook is bright

the outlook is purple

the outlook is a gift

Wandering Around the Cores

| Sheree

I’ve always had a wandering relationship with water.

Called it curiosity as a child. Call it freakiness as an adult. To feel the curling nothingness upon my skin, turning once dry to wet.

I’ve always wondered where the water flows,

why it’s never the same sea twice and

why they keep pulling me back to dive deeper into their cores?

Sending Out Some Hard Love

| Sheree

I want to send out a love that feels hard to the people so when they feel it they pay attention.

That they don’t dismiss it as soft.

I want them to feel it in their gut like a punch. Recall the power.

That they don’t miss the promise it holds.

Yes, I want to send out a love that feels hard to the world so they stop taking it for granted.

That they don’t forget to send it back to me.

It’s been a while …

| Sheree

Hey hey hey.

What’s happening? I’ve been on a social media hiatus. I’ve been leaning into Summer. I’ve been going slow. And it continues at least until the end of August. And then I’ll reassess.

What I have decided is that September is going to be 30/30. Thirty poems in thirty days. Why? Because I’m always thinking I’m not writing enough. Because I’m excited to write when I’m inspired to write. Usually through reading other people’s poetry.

If I’m not reading. I’m not writing. And I’m a writer because I’m a reader. I want to generate new work and what better way to do that than to get in amongst language and play. Work out a few issues and have fun doing so.

So I hope to see you back here at the beginning of September to share in the creations.

November Reading

| Sheree

This month was a bit sparse on the reading front but there were still books that got finished.

  1. The Festive House – Alison May
  2. Autumn Skies Over Ruby Falls – Holly Martin
  3. The Taxidermist – Shazea Quraishi