I’m not sure how I started following Nikita Gill on Instagram. Maybe I saw one of her poems on Instagram that had been re-posted or maybe in a magazine. Either way, I love her poems and I have one of her books – Wild Embers.Continue reading “Nikita Gill’s Poems”
In aid of national poetry day on Thursday, I thought I would go back and have a look at all the poems that I have written on my blog. Turns out its not as easy to find old poems and poetry as I didn’t tag them very well. But I’ve gone back and tagged them all under the category poetry so it should be easier to find – I think. To read other poems that I have written, you can follow this link – Poems. Continue reading “In aid of National Poetry Day”
In the darkness of the night and the early morning,
When monsters lurk just behind the shadow of the door
And spiders threaten to come out and hang,
A restless stirring, shows the nightmare is in full swing,
A woman creeps out of bed to start the day.
A list of things to do running through her head,
Making sure the girls have everything for school is her first priority
But its an endless list making her angry and helpless at the same time.
This is when meditation needs to be done (and ticked off the list).
A multitasking meditation, deep breaths while ironing,
Knowing that the things that she wants to work on will get left behind again.
When did life become so busy? When did lists become so long?
A loud swoosh as a door opens, brings the woman out of contemplation.
There’s a patter of small feet running across the hall searching for a grown up,
And a big relieved hug from two sleepy girls as they find their mummy.
Maybe life will be frustrating for a while but the big hugs are amazing.
In the next few months I’m hoping to update my blogs and try and make it look more organised. Continue reading “My Blog So Far”
Without a trumpet or a party popper,
The last nappy fell into the bin.
Big girls’ pants proudly came on for the night
As the girls made their way to bed, with the usual din Continue reading “Growing up”
Hot Bikram Yoga
I prayer that my body is ready
For contortions in extreme heat
Both legs are firm and steady
Start from the top, down to the feet
‘Keep breathing’ is the mantra
The sweat has already begun
As the teacher begins her banter.
There’s nowhere now to run
What makes me come here?
Why did I drag my friend?
Are you ok? Is that a look of fear?
We fold our body into a bend,
It’ll be over soon, my dear
As we finally lie down at the end.
there in the cold.
He stands there guarding
the house, come snow
or hail. He stands there
with only his hat
keep him warm.
He stands there
facing the gale force
wind that blows his hat off.
He stands there in the freezing cold.
He stands there wondering what it must
be like to be warm. He stands there facing
an orange glowing window. He stands there
watching the kids play in the cosy room. He
stands there in the bitter cold. Awaiting his
imminent but cruel death. He stands there
until the sun comes out and gives him the
warmth he so craves. He stands there now
only half his size as the rain washes away his black beady eyes.
My grandmother’s cooking is definitely the best
It’s tasty and flavoursome with out being too spicy.
My mother in laws cooking is good too but not quite the same
It’s very spicy and very heavy and cooked in lots of oil.
I wish I could cook like my grandmother
I learnt from my grandmother so it should be the same
But it comes out a bit different.
The spices are a little raw and not cooked at the right heat and the chapattis are flat
The unami is missing, that magic touch.
My aunts cooking is good and almost like my grandmother’s
With a modern twist which should be so good
But it’s still not quite the same.
As I walk through our neighbourhood today, l feel happy to be alive.
The wind tries to pull my hair out of my bun as I bravely march on through the blustery wind
Armed with the pushchair and a baby wrapped up warm,
I take a deep breath and carry on.
The lull of the motorway traffic, just outside our neighbourhood sounds like the distant sea crashing against the shore
The screeching of sea gulls, tears down the calm blanket descending around us.
Safe in the knowledge that the fresh air outside is meant to be good for you, I carry on walking.
New houses are being built around us, a new community centre, nursery and gym
Promises of a bright new future in smaller houses and squashed up streets
Brings more people into the area, young couples who need to speed into work.
It safe, our neighbourhood, that’s for sure
As long as your home by ten, not more.
It’s not London you know, it’s not the city that never sleeps
But the pull of family, friends and a new community, keeps us here for now.
So many faces in my face,
Happy faces, angry faces, a face slightly too close.
Is he famous, famous he is!
A blank face, a sad face, a face now looking at me. Continue reading “Writing 201: Poetry – Day 6”