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Michael Holloway

Twitter: @mjdholloway
Updated: Tue, 11 Jul 2017 10:47 pm

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Writer of poetry and fiction. Born in Liverpool, 1985. He studied English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Central Lancashire until 2008 when he moved back home and got his Masters in Writing from Liverpool John Moores University in 2012.


Holofernes I will never be the same again, now you have found me. Innocuous, girlish smiles whipped about on a kiss – O Judith, pour some wine and clip-clop horses hooves to the foot of the bed – planted on my mouth, cold as a corpse. The blue stone gates open to sun on one side and rain on the other. Judith, you make me think I am in love with you – but I am not. Your beautiful laughter while drunk is that of a dying man’s laughter now. The sun’s edge obliterates, burns what is left of the night. It comes through like fingers touching the neck. Perhaps you think I am in love with you. But I’m not. You surrendered to me and slept in my bed with me – laughing still in sleep – a wailing siren, what laughs? A child. A hyena. A clown. It was too late to know, your laughter sent me away, and I slept soundly and drunk, feeling the roundness of your body against me. Holding you, knowing every inch of your waist. Breasts. Hair. Neck. By morning I was dead. You carried my head, bloodied and still as if in the middle of sleep. Haha, Judith, I’ve already destroyed your gods before you destroyed me. But still you take me to Bethulia and show me to your people.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Viewed 2589 times since 08 Nov 2010

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Winston (Admin)

Fri 12th Nov 2010 19:51

Hi Michael, Thankyou for putting your profile on here, Welcome to WOl, Winston

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