poetry – Page 2 of 2

7Dec

By Alice ClarkNo Comments

Creative Writing

in sooth

in sooth, i know not why i am so sad i miss u in cerulean and orange emotional support jumper in full force one not to be reckoned with but dear god my intrusive thoughts are trying it’s not very late but i’ve got a tired ache brain ache self hate my favourite animal is you i am consumed with insatiability and itchy ankles when i open my mouth songbirds fly out which is actually very inconvenient my mouth is full of feathers and bird shit now damn that analogy i’m learning to exist soundly love vulnerably instead burn incense until the smoke makes it smell safe again i’m too afraid to leave the house most days anxious twitch anxious twitch ghost therapist dear god i feel pathetic in my bedroom tonight Image credit: Ph...

16Oct

By A.L WalesNo Comments

Creative Writing

I Do Not Write Love Poetry

but memoirs on your arcs pilings of tobacco peppered question marks morning it is raining paraoxysms from my crown wordlessly you pour for me tempers tremors now dusk I am awake again here another drought I silhouette your body softly smoke you out Photo credits: Photo by Robert Ruggiero on Unsplash

16Oct

By A.L WalesNo Comments

Creative Writing

Gutter Talk

early mornings in plettenberg bay five am & the sun was not yet high but it was warm still and bright plett sun is a different breed rich was by my side back then & red flocks flew west when they heard that laugh hingeless & hungered & hollering oorah those ears car doors on a sedan in midsummer left open to cool him down I was in Kensington when he next called midday my time midnight his I heard the tik screech through his jangled mind & lacerate his words discordant until the teakettle boiled into a goodbye & the smack of bone on tile it was a sickening sound at night I dream of africa the waves smash against my mind & the moon is still not high ...

The Samaritans Left me on Voicemail Imao

16Oct

By Zaki ChanNo Comments

Creative Writing, Features

The Samaritans Left me on Voicemail Imao

“You saw it in the tears of those who survived” – The Grenfell Tower Mural

17Sep

By Stephanie BagnallNo Comments

News

“You saw it in the tears of those who survived” – The Grenfell Tower Mural

A mural to honour the victims and survivors of the Grenfell Tower was created on Thursday 21st July in London at Village Underground. Painted by the renowned English street artist, Ben Eine, the mural featured a poem about the disaster by the Booker Prize winner and Nigerian writer Ben Okri. Okri's poem "Grenfell Tower, June 2017", composed in the days after the fire and first broadcast on Channel 4 News and published in the Financial Times, will be rendered across the 120-square-metre wall of the Village Underground on Holywell Lane, Shoreditch, East London. The lines "You saw it in the tears of those who survived" will appear in Eine's colourful style – with the full 1,600-word poem appearing across the wall as the background to the main text. Bahari - ‘This mural is our attempt to...

1Feb

By Michele TheilNo Comments

Sports & Socs

Reuniting Through Poetry

The Royal Holloway English PEN society hosted a poetry and speaking event on the 2nd of December that aimed to highlight the differences and similarities between the Eastern and Western worlds. According to the English PEN society, the event was about “breaking down the East/West divide, through poetry and spoken word”. The event saw several students, one staff member and two outsider poets speaking about dual nationality and their positions in both the Western and Eastern worlds. Victoria Bulley and Antosh Wojcik, the two outsider poets, as well as Jazz Kaur, Modupe Reis, Prudence Chamberlain and Dr. Eley Williams all dazzled the audience with their insightful observations regarding the “East/West divide” and their own experiences of it, emphasising the notion of free speech that is ensh...

25Jan

By No Comments

Features

Coffee House Sessions: Izzy Bizu

Jess Hines talks us through the beautiful performance that Izzy Bizu shared with the students of Royal Holloway and the interview that took place shortly after... The atmosphere at Crosslands was cozy and calm. Laughter danced in the air, as the equipment was set up and the cameras began rolling as 21 year-old singer-songwriter Izzy Bizu crooned into the microphone a little; soundcheck. Her velvet voice quickly drew the attention of the entire room, students turned in their seats as their eyes were lured to the front. Izzy warned the audience she’d only just woken up, tired after performing twice already that day in different locations, for her university coffeehouse tour. Her voice however was so powerful, so strong yet it appeared to flow effortlessly from her lips as she began her se...

24Dec

By No Comments

Features

Blue Dungarees

He stripped off her blue dungarees, Pushed her up against the nearest wall. This wasn't what we agreed, she said, But he shut her up with a smack, a fall. He kissed; he licked and gasped for air, Then after 97 creaks of the bed, he left. Door locked, light out, pain in her chest Wet hair. Scratching at the chamber walls Toothache and sore neck, red lips. Tapping on the big brown door, Rationing her water in the smallest sips. The raven on her window sill seemed to scream, As if he was the prisoner and not she, The bird relentlessly watched her dream. She wished she could fly away and just be. Her lips were cracked and so dry There was no more water in the well For this poor, tired girl to sob, to cry. Not even the salty sea could feed The embryo hanging by a thin st...