Archives for posts with tag: London life

Can you believe two years have passed since the London Olympics? I was fortunate enough to attend an evening of paralympic events. It feels as though it was only last year that I was sitting in the massive stadium, with an enormous lion emblazoned across my t-shirt and yelling encouragement at the athletes. Clearly, it wasn’t. That moment was in 2012.

This time last year I posted a loose Pindaric ode to a golden mango.

In the spirit of archives – looking at the back catalogue in the present, possibly to inform the future – I encourage you to read this post about progress. Joanna Penn recommends measuring achievement across the span of four years by asking oneself, where was I during the last olympics? Equally, you can plot your goals by projecting, where would I like to be by the next games?

Where will you be in 2016?

In the meantime, I’m still waiting for this summer’s golden mangoes to appear on the local grocers’ tiers.

Find me on Twitter. I’m @BeadedQuill.

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Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. Author: Arpingstone.

The sweaty gym clothes
yelled in the tog bag,
m8t$er f%$*er could the day get any worse?
But in the Zara and Topshop bags,
short summer dresses from the 
50% off rack just giggled at the hope of seeing sun.
The backpack lugging the laptop 
for an evening of more work simply sighed. Weary 
would carry them home.


Another poem inspired by my commuter experiences on London’s tube.

Twitter: @BeadedQuill
Facebook: BeadedQuill
Books:
In the Ocean: a year of poetry
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys
Shining in Brightness: Selected Poems, 1999 – 2012

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. Contributor: David Cane.

37 of us shuttled along as we sit or stand
with our regular doors.
They are the ones with which we enter
Thursday morning in Zone 1.
They are the ones where we could
change here for
Victoria Line.
Too late to exit for Morden via Bank.

Your regular doors
can be dangerous.
You could change after Euston.
Make the next start
a stop.

Follow BeadedQuill on Twitter (@BeadedQuill) and Facebook. Preview the poet’s latest book, “In the Ocean“.

The image used is in the public domain because its copyright has expired. This applies to Australia, the European Union and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 70 years. 

 

Sea-salt diamonds dot
their freckled, crisped up skins.
They are the evening heels
that come to our table.


In a pub gathering there inevitably comes that moment when the group becomes peckish. Some institutions offer gastro pub nibbles, such as artisan-crisped potato skins. Depending on the group, these (or prawn crackers) are chosen over the cheerful packets of crips piled up on the counter. The poet imagines that the potato skins bring some glamour to the table.

My latest and third book, In the Ocean, was published this week! Preview this work and my other books on the BOOKS page of this blog or at my Blurb Bookshop.
I tweet as @BeadedQuill and you’ll also find BeadedQuill on Facebook.

in glasses: wine, cocktails, liqueur,
on plates as cake and biscuits
from two discarded plastic tubs,
a litre of ice-cream

Lonely is the currency of sugar.

I’ve eaten two squares of Lindt, 70% cocoa, as I prepare this post. My head’s throbbing lightly with the sugar rush. Depeche Mode is my soundtrack,

Can you feel a little love?
Dream on, dream on.

I’ve just finished a Skype call with my mum who lives on the other side of the world, as do both my siblings. I chatted with them via Facebook this morning.

Originally I had entitled scribblings of this poem “London lonely”, because there are many of us living in this city who are far from (some of) our family or friends. There are still many who come from this city, or have lived in this city for a long time, who are lonely. It fascinates me that in such a bustling mass of humanity, disengagement and marginality exists. In our loneliness many of us find solace, either alone or with others, in the currency of sugar.


As @BeadedQuill I tweet about my London life (much of which is most merry and sociable) and ex-pat interests, notably in arts and culture.
Visit BeadedQuill on Facebook.
I have two books of collected poems. Click on the titles to preview:
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys
Shining in Brightness

The man with the notebook
draws attention.
The woman alongside hum
drops her Evening Standard
to glance.
	Left-handed he is
	writing with a ballpoint
	in a Moleskine, A5-sized.

Two page turners 
	across from each other.


The poems this week centre around London and the ordinary, daily observations living in this metropolis offers. Our first poem considers a scene during a tube commute.

Twitter: @BeadedQuill
Facebook: BeadedQuill
Books:
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys 
Shining in Brightness