Showing posts with label original writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label original writing. Show all posts

Wednesday, 9 August 2017

Micropoetry - July 2017

No, you are mistaken. This Micropoetry July wrap-up post is not late, it's been fashionably delayed.

All the cool kids agree 😎

So, here they are, my poems from July:

Friday, 14 July 2017

Friday Fics Fix - Fanfiction in Koru Mag

Do you want to read a whooooole magazine issue inspired by fanfiction and fan art and all that jazz, including a fic by your dear darling book nerd (i.e. me)?

fics fix title image

Of course you do! Why in hell's name wouldn't you?!*

*Don't answer that.

Monday, 10 July 2017

Micropoetry - June 2017

I know we're a little over a week into July, but we still have some unfinished business with June!

So, let's just get straight to it!

Here's my micropoetry from June:

Tuesday, 6 June 2017

Micropoetry - May 2017

Somehow I only ended up writing two pieces of micropoetry in May.

So it's a good thing that I also gave you an 'Unseen Verse' post!

I hope you like this month's output - reduced though it is - quality, not quantity, after all!

Saturday, 27 May 2017

Micropoetry - Unseen Verse

I promised some of my micropoetry that's never been published before - even on Twitter.

So I've got you some. :)

These poems have been languishing in my notebook for far too long. It's time to let them fly into the world and be read by you, my dearest nerdlets (Me? Nervous? ...Maybe a little.)

Wednesday, 3 May 2017

Micropoetry - April 2017

Here's the micropoetry I wrote in April!

I'm planning on posting one or two other micropoetry posts very soon, since people seemed to think it was a good idea when I suggested it last month.

I was going to do it in April, but, *shrugs* life happens. So I'm hoping to get at least one done by the end of May. (Emphasis on hoping!)

ink well pic

Wednesday, 5 April 2017

Micropoetry - March 2017

The end of March means that it's time for the wrap-up of my micropoetry!

creative mess pic with phone, notebook, etc

(Yes, the same micropoetry that I inflict on my Twitter followers throughout the month, collected into one handy-dandy blogpost!)

Tuesday, 7 March 2017

Micropoetry - February 2017

You know the drill by now - and if you don't, here's the low-down:

I write micropoetry on Twitter and once a month I put it all together in a wrap-up post :) Got that? Awesome! On to the poetry!

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Micropoetry - January 2017

Ok, January 2017's micropoetry by yours truly.

There's only 3 pieces this month because I've been uber-busy with work, personal stuff, and #DisabilityDiaries2017

20th January
Not shouting the loudest.
Not hating the most.
But loving all you can.
Getting back up.
Facing another day.
That's strength.

25th January
You do not understand
As I take you gently by the hand
& tell you
& try to stop you pushing the knife
further into me than you have

girl walking in the rain

28th January
But my dears,
The rain
Is just the part
Of the sky
That we can touch.
That touches us.

Like this post? Try these:

Monday, 9 January 2017

The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, December 2016

January may have rung in, bringing 2017 with it, but I'm sure I won't be alone in having 2016 business outstanding.

So, to that end, let's get one piece of that business done and dusted, shall we?

This is all the micropoetry I wrote in December. I've grouped the poems for the 9th and 12th together because they're sort of... companion poems.

Hope you like it!


1st December
bee and strawberry
I remember
That she said to me
I'm a worker bee,
but the taste
is not so sweet,
as it should be.'


9th December

diamondA silent agreement
That we would give our hearts to each other
but each keep our own.
I knew & you knew.
We knew we'd never speak of it

12th December

We danced in serious nonsense
Words of Narnia & diamond smuggling
They thought we were fools
& we knew that our game was reality's mask


15th December

crow in tree

There was a murmur,
A rustle in the secret-keeping trees,
And our open secret turned out to be the tragic truth.
Your death killed her.


29th December

city Red Riding HoodWhen we grew up
We learned
That the woods are full of big bad wolves
And we must defend Red Riding Hood
With sticks and stones


31st December

thanks written in scrabble tilesTo you
You incredible people,
Who made me feel worth something
Who made me smile
Who inspired me & kept me going
Happy New Year


Like this post? Try these:

Wednesday, 30 November 2016

The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, November 2016

Well, I certainly wrote more this month than I did last month.

I have no idea whether any of these are any good - but here you go anyway; enjoy! (Or not. Whatever.)

4th November

Princesses are flawless
Pale, weak, & soft
Born to be brides
Princesses don't kiss princesses;
Girls need to be princesses -

7th November

- because your hearts are sweet, aren't they? -
remember that people are people
Who love & live & hope & wish
Just like you

13th November

Fight for hope.
Fight for people.
You'll make mistakes,
Get up & do things better.
Treat people like people.
Love with your whole heart

14th November

People are fallible
They can be selfish
They can be short-sighted
They can be ignorant
The best ones try to do better
Even if they fail

16th November

We told you
That the fire
Was burning
You laughed
And stuck your hand in the flame
Told us to do the same.
Unlike you, we felt the pain

24th November

I see your face
In the weirdest of places
And it never seems
To be good news

24th November

I put my heart
Into it all
& how I tried
To make it count
But you can't please all of the people
All of the time
No matter how you try

Like this post? Try these:

Wednesday, 26 October 2016

The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, October 2016

So, October is on it's way out, and it's time to show you the micropoetry I wrote this month.

It's kind of been an up-and-down month for me, depression-wise, so sorry if these are kind of a bummer... and there are only three of them.


10th October
How do they do it?
The charmed ones -
While we strive, struggle, scrimp, save,
The universe re-arranges itself,
To better suit them.

13th October
I'm so tired
Of feeling so tired
Not knowing what's required
of me. What should I do?
What do you want from me?
I'm so tired.

23rd October
Running uphill just to stay in one place.
Tired of the struggle; of the fight; of the hate; of the dark.
Tired of being tired.

Like this post? Try these:

Wednesday, 19 October 2016


On October 21st 1966, 50 years ago this Friday, the village of Aberfan was changed forever.

A coal spoil-tip fell on the school.

Over 1 million cubic feet of industrial waste fell on the village, killing 116 children, and 28 adults.

We remember, and I give my small tribute here:


The heart was hollowed from the land
You left the guts to choke us.

A mountain fell on innocent heads.
You faced no prosecution.

Our children meant nothing to you.
Just a poor man's son, a poor man's daughter.

Our children were killed
By a black heart -
A company, an industry,
which cared more for profit than people.

You murdered them with your neglect.

When we screamed 'Murderers!'
you told us we didn't understand
Inferred we should defer to our betters.
Westminster ignored our anger and our pain.

You expected us to bow our heads,
Mumble 'yessir, nosir, threebagsfullsir,'
and creep away.

A father, speaking for a nation, speaking for a people, speaking for his child
Insisted on the truth.
Died of asphyxia and multiple injuries?

You buried our children alive.

You took the heart from the mountains,
Left the guts to rot on a hillside.
And buried our children alive.

And we remember.
Wales will always remember.

You murdered
the children
of Aberfan.

Wednesday, 28 September 2016

The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, September 2016

It's that time again dearest nerdlets! September is rapidly skimming out of view, and I have more micropoetry to share with you.

Sorry if several of these are kind of a downer - I learnt that someone I knew in school had died and... yeah.

I kind of worked through some stuff (the poems for 13th Sep will show you that,) so feel free to skip anything that's bringing you down!

9th September

Nothing deserves pity
More than those
who fear love & compassion
& turn instead to hate
Poor lost soul,
Find your way home soon

13th September (I)

How am I supposed to feel?
They say you died;
A casual friend;
I hadn't heard your name in years.
How am I supposed to feel?
Tell me.

13th September (II)

Do I have a right to grieve?
5 years or more -
Must have been
Never close, even then
Just two birds of the same flock
One bird now dead

13th September (III)

A background fixture,
Left behind when I left the room.
Weren't you younger than me?
Or was it a few days older?
Young & pretty & dead

17th September

No matter
How dark
It may be
There is light
There is good
You are loved

23rd September

The year of mean.
Have my tears,
But cariad, I'm gonna sing

Over the heads of abject liars -
Reaching ears that may hear

Like this post? Try these:

Tuesday, 30 August 2016

The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, August 2016

Another month faffs off into the everloving history books, and I have more micropoetry for you :)

Hope you like!

(Also for some reason I seem to average four micropoems per month - random.)

9th August

My love, your hope.
Hearts tried to speak,
Yet never spoke.

16th August

We snipe at each other
Humans become trolls
Keyboards delete humanity for some,
But increase it for others -
Good web knights

20th August

Speed through a red light.
Go on. Go ahead.
But the flowers tied to that tree?
They're a warning,
Don't take them as a challenge.

22nd August

When I laughed
You thought that I agree.
I didn't want to show
How badly your words
hurt me.

Like this post? Try These:

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Cracked Glass Slipper: Cinderella Part 2

Missed Part 1? Check it out here.

Alright, my nerdlets, after some escaping from nuns, I have finally found time to finish part 2 of this (slightly cracked) fairy-tale re-telling.

I have no idea whether it's any good - I do know that it's random, because let's face it, I'm a random kind of gal ;)

Hopefully I've restrained myself with the everything italics! problem I had in the first part. (Sometimes I like to stress things... a lot...)

(Some mild swearing and references to the sexy times.)

Without further faffing then, here is Part 2 of Cinderella:


“No. Don't”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were going to,” Sin snarled.

Tom paused, “...Wouldn't you? You're dressed like a chubby six-year-old's idea of womanhood.”

Sin gave him a death-glare and crossed her arms over her poofy-dress clad chest. She stalked into Tom's front room, cursing that little old lady with every step. She looked like she'd just stepped off the stage after a freaking panto; urgh!

Everyone stared, of course. And Sin pretended she hadn't noticed. Because she clearly didn't care what these losers thought. Of course not.

Yeah, she definitely stood out in this crowd of nearly-naked half-drunk folk bopping (because that really couldn't be called dancing, could it?) along to some repetitive dance track that was doubtless one of Tom's faves. People filled pretty much every corner of his cellar-space. (Tom liked to have parties in the cellar. Apparently it made him look cool.)

She parked her satin (or was it silk? It could be freaking fairy-dust for all she knew,) -wrapped butt on a bar-stool propped against the corner. Tom thought bar-stools were classy. Seriously; he was officially a douche. Why had she ever thought that this relationship would work? Stupid move. Stupid, stupid, move.

She stayed there for a while, hoping people would confuse her with a large and very realistic doll – one of those creepy things lonely old men dress up and take to the supermarket in documentaries about kooky lifestyles (not that she was judging – it's just those dolls gave her the creeps,) …or maybe she'd just blend in to the wallpaper pattern. There was low-lighting in here, and she liked to look on the positive side. Occasionally.

Tom ignored her, in favour of 'dancing' with every other girl in the room. Dancing… doing everything but make a baby with… same diff as far as Tom was concerned.

Maybe he was trying to make her jealous. She actually didn't care. It was when he started dancing with Terri, whispering in Terri's ear, that she got up to get a drink. And if there was a little more vodka in her vodka-and-coke than she'd normally put there, then it was because of the whole scary-magic-grandma thing, and nothing to do with Tom's lips so close to Terri's skin. Nothing at all.

She was having a bad day. She had Rumpelstiltskin's elderly aunt to contend with, after all. Magic witchy ladies messing with her love life – pretty much anyone'd need a drink.



“Hey Terri,” and Sin managed an actual, genuine, smile.

Maybe the vodka helped. Maybe it's just that it was Terri, and she wasn't dancing with Tom any more. (Ok, so maybe Sin cared a little about how close they'd been dancing. Just a little. Barely any amount, really.)

“What the hell is up with the dress?” Terri's fingers plucked good-naturedly at the ruffles.

“That's a very good question,” Sin nodded mock-sagely, “and I'm damned if I know; I'm at this party against my will, in case you were wondering.”

“Yeah… Tom told me about...” she waved her hand vaguely in a swirly motion, indicating the mess that was Sin-and-Tom.

Sin had actually meant crazy-grandma-scary-magic-lady, but that was a whole other train wreck/possible hallucinatory episode brought on by a combination of stress and exhaustion; so she let Terri think it was Tom drama. Because, hell, Tom drama took up a lot of her general drama quota anyway.

“So the dress is a form of protest? A statement about what you think of Tom?” there was a gleam to Terri's dark eyes that let Sin know that this wasn't a criticism, “Because if it's a message… it's not a clear one.”

“Ahhh, it's obviously to let me know she needs to be treated like a princess!” Tom interrupted, swinging an arm casually around Terri's shoulders.

“Which you suck at,” Terri snapped, pushing his arm away, “because you're a douche.”

Sin grinned, and then tried to hide hide her smile behind a hand. Tom didn't have an answer.

Terri was right, of course, but Tom clearly had expected Terri to just go right on ahead with all his Prince Charming crap, and just deal with it. But it turned out Terri had claws. Good on her.

“Jeez Terr,” Tom shrugged, “no need to be so sensitive.”

“Cut the crap, Tom,” Terri replied, “All you've been doing all night is trying to get in people's pants and make Sin jealous. Why she keeps coming back to you, I'll never know.”

“Did you get your period or something?”

“No, I'm just angry at you, moron. You treat Sin like she's worthless, and I'm just sick of you trying to be a macho-guy, or a cool-guy, or whatever the hell it is that you think you're doing when you treat people like trash! Call me when you're back to being you, Tom,” she flung her bag over her shoulder like a soap-opera-diva, “Coming with, Sin?”

“Uh… yeah, ok.” And, slightly gob-smacked, she followed Terri out.


Somewhere along the way, Tom'd become the kind of guy who gets his kicks out of breaking a girl's heart. It was like he wasn't the kid she'd known since they were ten. It was like underneath it all he'd become cruel – icy.

Only most people didn't see the ice. They saw Prince Charming. They saw the smile, the nice house, the good job, the handsome face, the success at such a young age when everyone else was barely scraping by. They saw the man who was truly flattering when he noticed how pretty you looked, and who could plead with you for something he wanted until you wondered why you were denying him in the first place.

These people didn't see Sin's face when he did everything but have sex with other girls right in front of her – when he was whispering stupid stuff in Terri's ear and getting way too close for comfort.

It was Terri who noticed Sin sitting in the corner in that ridiculous dress (did Tom make her wear it? He'd manipulated her into coming to this party, so Terri wouldn't put it passed him. Maybe he told her it was fancy dress and he had the perfect outfit… what a jerk.)

Maybe it was the dress that made Terri finally snap, maybe it was that destroyed look on Sin's face… maybe it was the fact that Terri knew all about every single one of the times Tom'd pressured Sin into going out somewhere, only to cancel at the last minute, or told her her clothes sucked in front of other people, or told her she was needy or…

Whatever it was, Terri'd finally had just about enough of what Tom was putting Sin – beautiful, funny, strong, smart, Sin – through. And the way he bragged about it – to Terri herself, of all people (did he know she'd had a crush on Sin, once upon a time? Probably. It was just the kind of cruel game he'd play) – it kind of made her want to punch the smile off his face.

Honestly, why had she waited this long to do something about it? Same reason Sin didn't just tell him off, she guessed (Sin would tell anyone else off, after all,) - Tom was a master at making you think it was your fault. He enjoyed messing with people – at least, that was what Terri'd ended up believing; he messed with you, turned you inside out, then acted like it was all your fault.

Sin stopped walking. And kind of stared at an empty parking space just down the street from Tom's.

“Sin…?” Terri asked, “What are you…?”

“Nothing,” Sin laughed, “there's nothing there!”

“Well, that's not true,” Terri corrected, moving forward to get a better look at the spot, “There's a… is that a pumpkin? What the hell?!”

Sin sat down on the kerb, heavily, and laughed with tears in her eyes.

What do you think? Please sugar-coat criticism ;D

Wednesday, 27 July 2016

The Writer Diaries - Micropoetry, July 2016

If you read this blog and/or my Twitter account a lot, you might know that I like to dabble aimlessly in micropoetry.

Micropoetry is basically poetry in the length of a tweet. Which is awesome, no?

So, without further ado, here's the micropoetry I wrote in July (which is hopefully a little more up-beat than a lot of my micropoetry has been in recent months!)

12th July

Can you know
I'm fragile glass,
And yet know
I'm strong as steel?

Can you take
Conflicting truths,
And believe
Both truths are real?

14th July

I know
It's never easy.
Just once
I wish
It wasn't quite
so hard.

18th July

You still don't get it
I'm not like you -
never was.
You're all made of sunshine,
but honey, I'm not.
I'm starlight,
I'm the stars.

21st July

Fingers dance across the keyboard
Pull the letters into the beat
Pirouette into a woven textile
Heart strings pulled along to the beat

Like this post? Try these: