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A writer’s heart

A writer’s heart beats best by the sea, The space filling the spaces in between words Forged by smiths with ancestral tools, Writing like a fool in the wilderness, The wildness of it all, A writer’s heart. It’s never contained in a classroom, It plays the piano silently, Crawls all over papers like a hugeContinue reading “A writer’s heart”

Friday flowers

On Friday she got flowers. Friday’s child, Friday’s flowers, All the other hours of all the other days of all the other weeks of all the other years she got.. Broken eggs and burnt matches, Overdrafts and silence, Hidden keys and a punch in the neck, Lies and perfume, No shows and an empty chair,Continue reading “Friday flowers”

All mine

Girl now you made it All your successes are yours alone All your losses are yours alone Inside you what was empty is now full of life, Your shadow no longer crying to eclipse the light, All mixed together by a child’s fingers. Good girl, bad girl, girl…. Now you made it. You made itContinue reading “All mine”

Choose not to matter

In part 10 Alice asks are you choosing not to matter with or without your marriage and your mortgage? Choose (single) Life Choose the NHS Choose you -no one else will Choose not to matter. Choose a waiting list Choose your mortgage Choose a carrier bag of cider Choose not to matter. Choose him forContinue reading “Choose not to matter”

I am my gun

Part 7 of Alice Smith’s series ‘Connecting to the mother keyboard is trigger happy. I am my gun and I want to fire it. I am my gun and I want you to fire it. In the right circumstances this could be fun. My aim is high high high. Your aim is low low low.Continue reading “I am my gun”

I am my gun

Part 8 of Alice Smith’s series ‘Connecting to the mother keyboard is trigger happy. I am my gun and I want to fire it. I am my gun and I want you to fire it. In the right circumstances this could be fun. My aim is high high high. Your aim is low low low.Continue reading “I am my gun”

Scooter sonnet

Part 6 of a series of blogs from the hospital bed from Alice Smith called ‘Connecting to the mother keyboard.’ Inspired by life on a mobility scooter. men want to fuck me. Helpless……. children want to be me. Whizzy..…. my reflection wants to cover me. Ugly.…. the floor wants to greet me. Bang! shops wantContinue reading “Scooter sonnet”

Because

Part 5 of a series of blogs from the hospital bed from Alice Smith called ‘Connecting to the mother keyboard.’ This one inspired by the snap of an ankle breaking . Snap! goes the summer, sunshine down that rabbit hole where the drugs work. Drool. Sweet Mr Blue legally prescribed for you. Fool. Snap! goesContinue reading “Because”

Handsome

This hand made music and grew flowers, it held many hearts but its palm is now dark. This hand made handprints in the moonlight on steamy car windows. This hand held your face and kissed it…and…smiled. Its signature spelled out a mistake made in a minute. I drew a line under a 7 year limboContinue reading “Handsome”