I'm a freelance journalist and while I did lots of creative writing and poetry when younger, as an adult I have rarely moved from writing non-fiction. Now I am tapping back in to the more creative side of my writing and exploring new realms within me that my journalism cannot bring out. Have got on a bit of a roll lately, and loving the buzz of writing poetry. Some of my writing is very personal, some observational, and much of it just pure fun! I have now performed at Freed Up Poets (several times), Poetry Pillow (a couple of times!), Scratch Poets, and WOL Sale. I'm loving it! **In case of confusion, I've changed my WOL name from Angel to my actual name Andrea!**
* Vilification * I met a demon, yesterday, idling in verbal fornication, while pivoting on a funeral pyre. Blood did not stick to its lips, but acid bubbled from its tongue. It discharged words that smelt of singeing hair. And, when they burned into the air, charred remains dropped like sulphur rain. Sinking, stinking, corroding. A perpetuation of pain. *Inner beast* There are times I get it wrong With quickened heart and quicker tongue Fired up anger and fearsome words And sometimes logic gets all blurred My inner beast in passionate grip I've got some bite, got some lip Filled with regret for what was said Text message sent, too late, been read Could kick myself, instead of him He's just had it in the shin Fantastic night, in fancy bars But tempers flared, too many jars In a second all had changed All of a sudden, became deranged Rationale had left the room A clean sweep, with an angry broom Wish I could turn things around Wish my foot hadn't left the ground Should have shut my bloody gob Instead I called him a fucking knob In the heat I lost my way Went ballistic, ashamed to say So much passion, hard to contain Sometimes makes me feel insane I know he thinks I'm off my head Can't get in touch, his phone is dead Of course, now calm, I see it all How I drove him up the wall Inner beast, it's feeling tame A spirited glow, not rip-roaring flame Would like to ask him, please let it go, Tell him sorry, I love him so Let's kiss, make up, dirty the sheets Instead of scrapping on the streets Drink tea in bed, our Sunday thing Let PG Tips do their healing Tempestuous Mancunian girl I am You don't want me dulled on diazepam This inner beast, might sometimes fight Don't let the rest drop from your sight *Pulling a Sickie* Eat your fill Fill your face Face your fears Fear your waist Waste away Away from food Feed temptation Tempestuous mood Moody bitch Bitch about fat Fat to fight Fight urge back Back on diet Diet don't work Work my brain Brain is a jerk Jerky movements Move onto knees Need to take Take feelings Feel control Control my head Head in place Place is red Red is anger Anger is out Out with sick Sick self-doubt
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Making peace with the slug army (18/06/2010)
Orphaned Elephant (29/03/2010)
Broken-legged mouse [edited] (26/02/2010)
The bed years (24/02/2010)
We'll find our way (16/02/2010)
Tear drop (20/01/2010)
Present Moment (20/11/2009)
Wives And Girlfriends (20/11/2009)
Korma girl (28/10/2009)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/andrea
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