Day 30 | #NaPoWriMo | "It's the end...

...but the moment has been prepared for."

So #NaPoWriMo is done. It was a mad one. My writing has transformed for real. Shoutout to all the poets that have taken up the challenge. There are some I've deliberately not uploaded for various reasons. I may put them up soon; I may not. But I did it. Daily poem for 30 days. Man's got work to do, still.

This is one I could upload.

Enjoy.

I want to stop living in my head,
make my body a neighbour to you.
I don’t know what it is to sit in the space between breaths
but I am tired of the growing gulf between our mouths
and the emptiness between our clasping palms.

Tonight, we tried to cross the gap between our feet,
but we’re still broken
and drift apart like arctic ice,
even as we lie
here, with nothing between our chests.

Day 29 | #NaPoWriMo | untitled vol. π+1

Minimal intro again. Not really got much to say, to be honest. Thank you for reading.

Enjoy

my prayers are slipping
i am too coward to cross myself
my left hand is pregnant with flesh
my right is gangrenous with lust
my back will not bend to prostrate
my knees are unused to the ground
my neck is stiff
my forehead is heavy and throbbing with sin
my ears overflow with serpents
my heart contains legions of swine.

i’ve been falling away for so long,
i’m afraid of hitting the ground
and smashing to pieces on impact.

Day 26 | #NaPoWriMo | Can I leave these untitled?

I low-key burned out of introductions. But that's fine. The poetry is what counts.

Thank you for your presence.

Enjoy

On separation

I fear my hues are intermingling. Soon
all my whites will come out looking wrong.
My darker sides will start to get washed out.

OR

I fear the crossroads where I stand
has collapsed into a single street.
I am forcing myself to keep a foot in either lane.

Either way, my divergences are starting to unite.

Day 25 | #NaPoWriMo | Good-natured caveats and dat

You know that awkward moment when you rock up to a motive and you're wearing the exact same outfit as your friend?

I don't - I never got that.

(Is that a thing for people? Is it really that deep? I feel like it's been a plot point in way too many sitcoms with female characters. To any females reading this, can you clarify this for me, please? Thanks in advance.)

Yeah. I never got that. Until last night when SugarJ Poet told me I'd copied his title for Day 24. It's awkward because it was slyly in my drafts - started on Day 23, I might add -  but I hadn't typed the poem up yet, so it got peak.

He beat me to the upload/share and I forgot to change it. (If you're reading this and are slightly confused, this has been uploaded a few days late and backdated, lest the out of sync upload dates bug me). It's not that deep, but he was cussing me out for it in the group chat, so yeah. I'm playing. And hella petty. Anyway, preamble over.

[EDIT: Rah. His has the definite article and everything. Okay, L received.]

I won't say what this one's about, but reading it back to type up, I started to think of Omar Bynon's I Go For Long Walks Now, to which a good few other poets - including the aforementioned title thief - have responded to. I'm telling myself this is my [unintended] second response (here's my first). Omar's poem is now available in video form, if you haven't read it yet. I'd direct you to the Barbican Young Poets 2016/17 anthology, but this intro has enough hyperlinks.

Anyway, here's this one.

Enjoy x

On trying to write happy poems

Maybe I can't write happy poems because I'm not. I'm a poor actor and a bad liar, so I don't know how to tell you to be happy or how to bring joy to your day in any other way than “don't be like me”. I think it will to be the most consistent thing I tell my children, if I have them.
I’ll show them my notebooks of fake-deep, stuffed with metaphors like overflowing kitchen bins, each as meaningful as an empty fridge and tell them "it’s the reason why I cannot give you the life I want and you deserve. Why to this day I wonder why your mother would waste her time, what in the hell she was thinking or doing or taking when she chose to be with me’ why I question your existence every day." I imagine my eldest, how she’ll look up at me with the cosmos in her eyes - so bright and full of everything I’ll never see but at one time hoped I would - and say nothing. Maybe do her best to console me, and for a moment at least pretend to understand the man that failed at everything but them. And I’ll tell her through our foreheads: “please don’t love a man like me”.

Day 23 | #NaPoWriMo | The Home Stretch

It's kinda mad how there's just a week left of April, and therefore, just a week left of #NaPoWriMo. It's been interesting, I think. It's also mad how I said I'd have this site up properly by week 2 but I haven't. Awkward. I'm working on that. Thank you for taking the time to log in (every single time, Squarespace). But I know you reading this are the real MVPs. Thank you.

Here's a new one.

Enjoy.

DEJA VU

the lines between dreams and life are blurring.

(you've already talked about this.
there's only so many times you can
rehash yourself.
avoid CD, record, or tape comparisons -

you're not broken.
you've no excuse.

don't mention sleep's relatives. 
that's done.

if you must be lazy, be original at least)

you convince yourself your deja vu is proof
that your dreams are prophecy. that you’re not forming memories the wrong way round
and it's not your sleeplessness that's blurred the days and warped your sense of time. 

Day 20 | #NaPoWriMo | Titles Are Actually Pressure Vol. 2

It's kinda mad how this has changed my work so dramatically. I'm definitely more productive and can translate my ideas/thoughts into writing so much better. It's been a very real eye-opener. I don't know how I've survived without this. I hope it's the same for anyone else doing this challenge. If you're reading this, I very much l rate you and love your hustle. Keep going, and keep pushing it with the output because it is very inspiring. 

This one was late because I got very busy and had to run a few errands tonight.  I hope it's worth the wait. You faithful remnant reading this are the real dons of this game. Thanks for being here. 

Enjoy

I turned you into Jericho
hoping to gain entry
until my circling spiralled,
became an invasion.
I never meant to break
your walls with my footsteps
and loud voice.
I wanted us to admire
the interior together. Now
I am staring at the rubble,
at the works of my mouth,
trying to put the pieces back together,
and failing, learning that
my hands are weaker than my tongue. 

Day 18 | #NaPoWriMo | I'm not vexed, I'm tired

The news was interesting. Let's see where this goes now.

All I know is this: apathy is dead. As in not cool. As in unacceptable. If you're 18-25 and from the UK or a Commonwealth nation (yes, you can vote) then in the name of whatever you call upon, REGISTER TO VOTE. It takes, like, 5 minutes max. and there is no excuse whatsoever. you don't need an opinion right now, and I won't prescribe one. Just register. You can have one on 8 June (if you need time off work, book it now). 

And turn up. Please. 

Anyway, back to the poetry.

Enjoy x

Change

Pennies still cost more than they're worth
so you'll forgive me for not standing
with you in heat or sleet begging
for change they never wanted to keep anyway.

They will claim they did you favours
while you think your sweat had earned it while they continue
to dash the drying root and fruit of your labour.

Day 16 | #NaPoWriMo | Happy Easter/Pascha/Resurrection/Egg Holiday

What's good, fam? 

Christos Anesti! 

Hope your Easter weekend (which has nothing to do with the Babylonian deity Ishtar) was restful and such. This next one is also seasonal because I couldn't help it, but I don't do it for the eggs. Thanks for being here.

Enjoy 

(N.B. The title will probably change)

And then the Angel of the Lord said unto him:

You forgot to tend your wounds again.
Infection spread like weed roots through your veins
to your heart   You say

I will not believe unless I feel

but you were too late
for the death and the funeral - missed the darkness
and the tears and your chance to be torn free of doubt.
It is a parasite you’ve learned to live with.
Now you want to kill it with proof

so you are trying to catch flies,
hoping Death will be close by. But

the tombs are empty today.

The only bandages around are left behind
from the body you missed too.

There may be some spilled myrrh
you can sponge off the ground for ointment
and a flame you can borrow
to burn the lateness out of you.

He is risen. Follow suit.