Poetry Blogs (stigma)
The first time
Is a pin prick
To feel yourself
You search your being
You are it:
Coursing through yourself
The second time
You search inside
Behind the corner shop
You find where he begins
But come back,
Stinking of rot
Void of thought
To feel what?
What are you searching for?
To begin ag...
Sunday 22nd November 2020 10:30 am
like green screen acrobats
through city streets
voices swing and sideswipe
and faces throw scowled eyes
towards our down trod step
it’s like plants waving their fists at trees
who only do what trees do
not denying light on purpose
as stigma sets in ugliness
and bunnies are just existing
Monday 29th June 2020 8:59 am
The following piece is a snippet from Buzzin Bards Manchester Poetry Anthology, submissions are still open at: https://www.localgemspoetrypress.com/buzzin-bards-poetry-anthology.html
While you’re too busy being two-faced
I’ve got one face with many layers.
Take me at face value, or take a detour,
reforged, like Ant Man upon my deep pores.
Tryna get 1UP, that’s a weak score...
Friday 2nd August 2019 11:47 am
On my fathers side,
They ignored the elephant
On the living room couch
And called it toughness.
This was how they turned
Wife and kids
This was how my cousin
Turned a belt into a noose
In his closet.
This was how they called
my aunt the "bitter black woman"
stereotype and how they saw
her charge to dim...
Tuesday 12th February 2019 5:01 pm
I am not the fat girl
I am not the skinny girl.
I am both.
I am both the bingeing in the night
And the starving from pure fright.
I am both
In the mirror I am both.
I am the always too thin pile of bones
And the body too big to call home.
I am both.
In the shops I am both.
I am the girl who is too curvy to wear cute clothes...
Wednesday 22nd August 2018 11:45 am
Glass sides tip away the hope of perception and cameras flash away any hint of reflection
at this hub of metal minds and stiff bodies.
This soft grey raven digs for existence among the steel nest of discardment.
Every sip a taste of us, our residue his everything.
Around me, gold fingered bird-watchers with their fogged up binoculors,
tasting their uncessary glory.
Molten pride down th...
Thursday 20th November 2014 3:30 pm
"I am a patient" I whisper in my head
and I should be treated like one
please take care of me
as I lie in this bed
with my insides burning
scared to death of this disease
my bones ache
I tremble and sweat
and cry as I stare out the window at the parking garage
where my car is parked, waiting for me to escape this nightmare
I wish I could say I'm here because I'm brave
Tuesday 16th August 2011 6:48 pm