Amphibious Words

Conversations Word amphibians hold the real treasures felt in the veins. But we talk more, more. Make more words known to each other. Chime this topic. Ring out that story. Wring out absolutely the whole truth. While the word amphibians live in those tones; they also swim in the extract of transmission. – I wrote

The Best Instruction

While looking for some entertaining archival posts, I came across this micro-poem from a year ago: The Best Instruction You might receive an email telling you such ‘n such. Don’t worry! Take no action! May your week include more emails that require less action. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books: In the Ocean: a year

The mask of nonsense

“It’s complicated” posted this time last year proposed a point-blank assessment of The Relationship Drama, especially as recounted by heterosexual women (as this encompasses most of my experience). It’s the “He loves me, he loves me not, why doesn’t he love me?” tune. The poet/narrator declares, none of this is complicated. Either it moves forward,

5 poems reworked

BBC Radio 3 is my station of choice. I listen to hours and hours of their programming, both on the clock radio that rests on my bedside chest-of-drawers and on iplayer on my laptop. Sometimes I schedule upcoming programmes or concerts into my diary, or mark catch-ups on my to do list. During these many

She takes to heart her ship

My use of maritime imagery predates the well received poem of August, “Tall Ship“. For example, there is also this poem posted last year, “Preceding seafaring that was not to transpire“. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books

Simply say, I am here at this place

I am very fond of this little poem from the archive. It outlines advice for letter writing, an activity that I so enjoy and of which I reckon I am one of the last remaining proponents. Many recipients of my correspondence have graciously sent back their pen-and-paper replies. In some instances, they have noted the

Advice for Love Chess

When I first posted this poem, it elicited some strong responses. “Blatant manipulation. Far better to say what you mean.” Ah! Love chess. — This poem, along with 24 others about life, love and the modern boy, are collected in my book Emily’s Poem for Modern Boys.

A small heart panics

Little robins cock their heads when I pass and stop. “Hello.” I move. They dart. The forest birds know not to trust. — This is poem 96 in the lead up to the total of 104. The project is to write two poems a week across 52 weeks (i.e. a year). I reasoned, if I

[A short poem]

My hairpin gave and broke in the lock I had tried to unpick. One piece I held up in my fingers. That I could take away. The other length, small as it was, there I left. — Please find and follow me on Twitter. I tweet as @BeadedQuill

I told her

I told her       Because modern boys ought to know the advice given   Hold out until Tuesday. You know you can. No public communication whatsoever. If necessary write it out. But do not send. (Especially, do not press send.) Sit on your hands, girl because you are waiting for move 5 in love chess.