A poem about the things you wanted in the past, and the things you want now, and whether you should shun the past or strike a balance between it and now.
A love letter to water, to playing pooh sticks in the stream on our road as a child, and to the chance to pass those memories on to future generations.
An explicit account of negative thought spirals. Please read with caution, my darlings.
Experimenting with a different kind of free verse structure for this week's poem - the story of a white plastic bag, and its refusal to give up.
Phoenix - a poem about paving the way for those who are different, and how reaching for your dreams can make a path others can follow.
Straight lines aren't natural: remember that. A poem about recovery, the passage of life, and worrying that you've gone a little astray.
there is a kind of tirednessthat aches itself through my bonesa resonant song of fatiguethat has nothing to do with my body.it is my mind’s creation,this deep-seated exhaustion,and the only solution for itis to hide,hide,hide awaywhere no one can find me –until I am ready to pretend myself confidentall over …
I amthe tinyvibration of doubtthat you thinkis an earthquakecome to falland crush your dreams but don’t worry I have a cousinher name is hopeshe is a sparka flicker of lightbut cast into darknessshe is salvation ride my waves, little onehope is coming for youin the wake of my storm
as I climbup this mountainknowing another lies beyondand another beyond thatan endless stretch of impossible climbs may I rememberthat I am not climbing it aloneand that it is okay, sometimesto stop and admire the view.
it took me so longto find youbecause you were therelong before I stopped lookingfor the other half of my hope. in that silenceof hopelessnessI heard the world laughing, for we were oneand no one could imaginea world where we were apart. you are clever, and ambitious,and careful and kind and …