OctPoWriMo Week Three Round Up

I’ve not done very well this week. I’ve had a rough week for various reasons so I’ve fallen behind with OctPoWriMo. So much so that I wrote four of the poems yesterday and three of them today. It’s depression, it amkes it hard to anything but the basics and while …

OctPoWriMo Week Two Round Up

This week has been tiring. Not in terms of writing, but in the real world. Where I work and live and sleep. If only it were all digital, but alas I exist. Flesh and mind and all. So I’ve been behind in both writing and posting poems for a couple …

OctPoWriMo – Week One Round Up

OctPoWriMo stands for October Poetry Writing Month. The challenge is to write 31 poems in 31 days and is an off-shoot to NaPoWriMo in April created by Morgan Dragonwillow in 2012. I do both challenges most years depending on the circumstances. There are no real rules, just write 31 poems …

Poetry: I Say

I say crying is good for you a release of endorphins your mind and body sorely needs. It’s a lie. Crying hurts, his now more than mine, every tiny tear stings, and my head hurts and hear aches as if I were crying, same as when I am crying. With …

Fiction: Ack-Ack Girls

A peice of fiction about the women who manned the Anti-Aircraft weapons during WW2. It was late into the night but Gwen was still awake, listening to the thuds of the rain on the tin roof of the dormitory. Staring straight up all she could see was the empty bunk …

Poem: Discoveries

Discoveries I discover pieces over myself all over the place and time is taken to find all the words to explain it all. Those words are mine however for my understanding. I would be something non-existent if I must. Words are feelings to me but may not be to you …

Poet Vs Writer

I’ve been watching an argument (debate does not cover it) in a writing facebook group I’m a member of about why poets call themselves writers. At first, I found this really insulting. While I don’t think the original poster meant to insult any poets in the group, he didn’t do …

Poem: Summer Soundtrack

I remember a good summer bright with promise, crushes and sex, my memory nebulous a floating soundtrack to the sun. If only I could remember more. Not every winter was barren, not every summer bright, it’s on the edge of something wonderful an awakening of senses delightful and distressing all …