halfbakedpoemz

This is a silly one where I experimented with rhyme and a bit of a palindromic structure!  My good friend, steadfast tin soldier, And years of wishing I’d been bolder When your tin soldier boots march you away  From your girl at home, and things she didn’t say. Wave goodbye, steadfast tin soldier, But turn and glance over your shoulder To childhood, measured in ruler-spans- A memory of how we began: Tin toy face, enchanted glass look A hearth was lit, a matchstick struck. The clacking knells and whizzing bells of my toy shop heart- Confirmation of an infatuation fated to start. Music-box laughter on cross-legged floors When our amusement left us silly-sore, Stitched up sides and wiping weeping eyes At marriage, a carriage and all it implies. Or when we grew up to be Capital-Cee Clever, Stroking our chins and humming hmmm forever Trading half-baked knowledge, taste the weight it brings Old chap, how did we enjoy such childish things? Then my cat-burglar thieving glances, Your metal...

sorry- another half arsed poem as im still working through auditions etc etc etc. verryyyy important actor dahhhling dont you know x anyways, here are some Haikus myself and friends composed in the workroom instead of finsihing my carol ann duffy coursework. Soz Carol. I hate miss jardine She hates my coursework  What a fucking bitch- Scarlett I hate gimps so much  They are jarring and weird Scarlett is a cunt- Owen  Reece has a moustache I think it is a bad one  Men do not matter- Freya Goku Egg stands tall Watching over the workroom I love him so much- Reece When it is raining  It is also thundering  Dancing in the rain- Toby  I don’t even know Oh my god erm hello you Nice to see you now- Alice  From Blogger iPhone client

Apologies for the radio silence- currently balls deep in drama school applications, so ive not been thinking anything remotely poetic these past few weeks. This is a poem I wrote to be performed as spoken word alongside a devised movement piece for one of my first - round auditions.When the world ends all  colossal climate-induced natural disasters will be such distant memories that they become folklore. White sunrise on a nuclear morning The suffocating shock-white of another withering day We passed the night telling stories of ancient tempests screaming battering winds hot seas boiling over onto indifferent shores rain like a fickle lover falling at once in violent slats then absenting itself for cruel desperate months old testament chaos rabid and vengeful but vivid violence in a shimmering technicolour there is a vile delight that sits in our throats we awake on sterile barren ground and try not to look at the footprints in the sand to hear the howl of dark ancestral spectres ca...

A friend of mine took in an aging hamster when his owner moved away- we all thought he wouldnt last a week, but he had a very good innings. He died peacefully in his sleep two days ago- heres a silly poem I wrote for his funeral service: A boy with massive bollocks  But an even bigger heart You spent the days in a sawdust haze Waiting for your life to start Till a girl called Millie took you  To a big scary new home Tasty meals and a hamster wheel And plenty of space to roam  And plenty of adventures too Like meeting cousin Rupert from down south Or hiding away, Milo’s prey  In a holiday at the twins’ house You were never without friends You bit and wriggled when we held you tight But Bertie, I hope you were happy  When you had to bid us goodnight What a privilege to love you In your autumn days and twilight years And to see you off to hamster heaven With a smile, despite the tears And I think about you looking down From that big wheel in the sky  Bertie, ...

I drive us to the retail park.  It is that first night of autumn  When lightness starts to pace away, A trembling-pistolled dueller. My hands are childishly clumsy in steering Veering into the wrong lane I have never been this far before Exhaled with the ghost of laughter You smile at this too- But I am sweatily serious. The thinning branches that scrape the doors Remind me that each second is excruciatingly novel, That a life can hurtle by and leave you choking on the exhaust. In the slow strobing streetlight  We career past the farm gates That were the boundaries of my universe, To a terrifying, brave and nauseous world.  From Blogger iPhone client

Summer strides off the way she came A train pulling out of the station. The six alacritous weeks  that watercolour-bled from one to the next  Are phrased off neatly,  punctuated into nothing- The tree only falls if it thumps.  I’ve snowglobed my time, Traced over the scribbled edges in marker pen  To make an opaque period Of open-gate days and unscaffolded nights  A tale I can get my mouth around  Both storyteller and shuffling child- I sit myself down and tell myself Of setting light caught in green bottles Transfigured into lush jungle emeralds  And vague embarrasments That become comic relief, light as air Uncertainties bubbling in the pit of me Are rubber victims- faint white dents on the page, Words half-said Each balmy evening is enbalmed, Dog days dropped dead  Just in time for a snowdrop-garland grave. It is a comfort that I can position the corpse just so- I mutter six feet under my breath narrating to myself only the story I wa...

She pulls the gallows lever And leaves their sentences dangling in mid air Stepping a strangling tarantella. The cat that gets their tongues lives in shadowed corners  Eyes brighter than the furnace glow of her fag’s end- A look that spits ‘if you think you’re brave enough…’ Cutting through the tar nights  Cutting boys down to size Their slurring vodkabulary concrete-grazes its knee Black-blue-bloody in the wake of her K.O thesaurus fist Her turn of phrase that turns and turns and Smacks them, with metal ring knuckles ringing their ears for the foreseeable  In the low nights When I am wide eyed and frozen By the slurring sliding hands of the interloper Face crumpling beneath that oppressive inebriated grin Heartbeat in my ears  (The shrill cry of a dog beneath a tyre)  A figure steps between myself and heartbreak  In all of her smoking glory, The static glow of her forked bolt anger Warms me to no end From Blogger iPhone client