Poetry Blog by Isobel Grace Clarke
I am not a Harley Davidson,
but a moped.
I am the opposite of a fox
I am a badger.
I am not the cream at the top of the milk,
I am the last dribble you find when you’re making a cup of tea.
I am most unfortunately, unsexy in my sexual prime.
Not adored, but ignored.
But at least I've got a sense of humour!
Thursday 10th January 2019 5:53 pm
I stretch some more
sprawling over my bed
caressing the cold sheets beside me
A weight sits on my chest.
The pang of my solitude,
visiting me in the silent hours of the morning
I bring your blanket closer to my chest,
Sucking in your smell,
Breathing the pores of you.
It’s started to fade now.
The staleness and the dust has set in.
Sunday 12th November 2017 10:42 pm
I ran the hot water over them
Trying to scrub them away
They weren’t dirt or mud
They were too wide and deep
A part of me
I’d have bleached them off if I could
I’d been so busy
Eight hours working with a hangover
I ached and winced like it was nothing
Smiled and waited on strangers
It could have been him
The bath is when I realised my reality...
Friday 31st March 2017 7:11 pm
Eight o'clock looks better with blue tinted sunglasses.
The sunset is redder, the sea loses its grey,
People become mere shadows in the softening light.
It is calm.
I sit and wait for him.
Curling my bare feet into the sand.
Shadows catch their reflections in my eyes
Seeing only themselves and a lonely girl.
The waves melt away the metal casings of my heart;
Tuesday 11th October 2016 10:20 am
I am sat inside a box,
My fateful cage.
I push, I scream, I curse, I kick,
And yet...it stands still.
Mocking me with it's security.
It's steel surface scratches me with every movement,
resurging thoughts of bitter isolation;
It's cold chill reeling through my scrunched up bones,
Mocking me with it's unfeeling presence.
I long to feel warmth.
Thursday 1st September 2016 9:09 pm
A single hand,
Rested gently in mine.
Held tightly and affectionately,
Never letting go.
I long for this hand’s warmth,
The comfort of being attached to another,
Knowing they’re by my side,
Eternal and unchanging.
Our fingertips caress each other,
Locking each other in with child-like strength.
Our hands are forever bound to one another,
through our slow ...
Wednesday 16th March 2016 3:17 pm
A single child,
Trapped behind rows and rows of wooden bars,
Longing for the warm comfort of their mother.
Their lungs ache in agony,
Wanting and waiting,
Their tiny cheeks ridden with tears.
They shake their small cage
As they grow tired and agitated.
Why hasn’t she come yet?
Doesn’t she know I want her?
They sit in defeat,
With sobs turning into te...
Friday 26th February 2016 2:33 pm
A single tear rolls tenderly down his face.
From his eye to his lips to the edges of his chin,
It runs away from it’s creator.
More and more are formed,
Time struggling its way up to a regular rhythm,
The tear drops to the floor, overlooked as a distant memory.
It sinks into the wooden surface,
Making its final resting place there.
The other tears are less fr...
Monday 22nd February 2016 12:53 pm
A single knife in the kitchen sink.
Its warm blade, used and discarded.
Fresh liquid dissipates gently into the water,
transferring its fragile bond away from the solitary metal.
The gentle waves wash over its sharp edges,
Whilst its owner viciously scrubs at their hands in the pale water.
Once full of dominance and purpose,
It lies there, useless and despised, ...
Friday 19th February 2016 3:06 pm