wordsthroughtheglass

my brain on a page

Archive for the tag “My Work”

Extreme Watersports

Yes I know I have already graced you with my snowman presents but I couldn’t NOT post this. Introducing extreme watersports Bob; he kayaks even when the river has frozen over.

He is particularly impressive as the snow yesterday was so fluffy you couldn’t make a snowball out of it; It was like washing powder. So, with the power of ‘not-giving-up-ness’ I kinda cheated – his head is a basketball. I literally wet a basketball and rolled it in the snow for his head. Kinda works, he looks happy enough anyway!

snowman

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Snow Puft

Yesterday I promised if it snowed more I would make an re-enactment of the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters. And as you all know It snowed a fuck ton last night so I had no excuse but to painstakingly make him.

And this is the conscience, meet my little buddy Snow Puft. He is a lot smaller than my inspiration photo but I added miniature cars and real life fire to even the playing field out. Hope you like him!

marsh3
marsh2
marsh

Nothing makes you feel more like a villain than a swivel chair and a cat –  (my discovery at a computer desk with my nan’s fluffy cat).

cont.The Scrabble Challenge Poem

After the Trial

That was the eve
all was muted –
colour was glued
to the floor,
the radio was just
sand
emptying like figs
into our ears.

There were no jokes.

No acorns rolling on
titled tables, or dolls
without eyes
to play with.

All that was clear
was the orb
of blood
and regret
that rested in
our mouths.

Harvey

Pink apple soles
curl back,

chubby limbs
flop down

as the umbilical cord
unravels

around your
tiny creased neck.

Your liquid lungs
do not scream,

your eyelids
remain shut.

The fusion of
white coats

could not save you.
I rest your fragile body

on my swollen breast,
until the doctor

takes you away.

So as I promised, I’ve uploaded a poem. This piece was inspired by the last post, a poem about a miscarriage. With ‘Harvey’ I wanted to convey a still birth with simple haunting images. I wanted to express the same feeling of loss that Clare Shaw initially touched on, but at the same time maintain my own poetic voice . This, unlike most my work, is not confessional. I just wanted to share what I felt after reading ‘The No Baby Poem’. She is a beautiful writer. Explore.

Victoria Road

Aubade

We Still Young

We still young. We
sip rum. We

play bridge. We
still live. We

lark loud. We
pace proud. We

wage war. We
know more. We

still young. We
get some.

[My response to We Real Cool, this time from the POV of the older generation]

Father’s Heist

Dominic (the boy) recorded me reading one of my poems today.  ‘Father’s Heist’ has been published in ‘Poetry Rivals’ 2011 ‘In Heart and Mind’. I shall post a written copy of this in a few days.

Hope you enjoy someone reading for you, for once.

Tedx Talk “Love and Lust”

Okay, this is very embarrassing!

This is me reading some of my poetry over a year ago at a Tedx talk. I am a massive fan of Ted talks so I was very lucky to be involved in this project. Although when I watch this I can see how nervous I was back then. I am much better now, mainly from working with the Barbican Poets and performing at uni. This video just reminds me of how far I have come.

Recording/filming yourself is a great way to see how you perform. It’s always easier to offer others advice, but by taking a step back you can see how to improve your own performance. I think the most important thing I’ve learnt from this experience is not to be afraid of being bad, always try, and practise will make you better. Hope it’s not too cringe-worthy!

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