Notes Regarding Notes I – Ollie Dixon

Change, contrast and flow

Ollie Dixon is a 19-year-old student, musician and previously unpublished poet who resides in London. His poetry focuses on the external, physical world exploring the simple and existential ideas arising from it.

Notes Regarding Notes I

Oil and Water separated, At the touch of chemical Change, contrast and flow. Flamenco Sketches. Feelings low.

Metal from stone. Gold from Rome. You are the cotton that keeps me warm, The stomach lining and butterfly swarm.

How does it appear so? That two lives are lived, Yet not one hearing knows From where all the magic grows.

Ollie Dickson, 15th April 2019, London

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Writing With Light – Chrissie Morris Brady

Don’t ask them to smile

Chrissie Morris Brady lives on the south coast of England with her daughter. She is much travelled and has lived and worked in several countries. She gained her degrees in Psychology at USC and has worked with people of varying mental health conditions. She has been published by Bournemouth Borough Council, Plum Tree Books, Ariel Chart, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Dissident Voice.

Writing With Light

Take the photograph now.

The light will change in moments,

in murmurs, in breaths.

Don’t ask them to smile,

that is not the memory.

Take another photo, half a stop up,

again, half a stop down.

We can write with light if we

don’t seek a pose.

–
The light has changed now.

So have the murmurs, the breaths.

Laughter may have died to another mood.

Capture it, the sense of it.

Fragile, the memories we keep.

The camera often lies,

but more, our uncertain minds

don’t retain what was,but rather,

what we wish it had been.

–
Yet we recall the things we meant to say,

or wished we could have said, or not said.

If we could have loved better, or found love

elsewhere.

Friendships that we have still are and those

we lost or ended.

Chrissie Morris Brady

The Garden Girl – Mercury King

Under a moonlit sky in the ease of autumn

Mercury King is a writer and artist who lives in Suffolk. She is inspired by nature and fantasy to craft her poems. Originally from Boise, Idaho, Mercury enjoys the outdoors, and can often be found exploring the woods in East Anglia.

The Garden Girl

Mercury King

Questions To Ask A Potential Lover – Arcadie

Do you think the world is black and white or as grey as a bullet

Arcadie is a writer and poet from Brighton, now calling South London home. Inspired by both the world around her and the relationships humans have with each other, she writes poems described as ‘storytelling to a rhythm’ and likes to write extensively on matters of the heart.

Questions to ask a potential lover

How are you

How are you really

Where do you consider home to be

When you stand up too quickly do you get headrush

Do you get headrush when you think of me

Do you look up at the sun even though you shouldn’t

If you do, do you get those dots that dance across your eyelids

The ones you can’t quite focus on

Do those dots remind you of an acid trip

Have you ever taken acid

When you did did you see things

Like the world through the lens of an old VHS tape from the 80s

Like the view from the top of a toll bridge

Like your future with a partner

Do you want kids

How would you react if your kids took acid

When was the last time you cried

When was the last time you really cried, cried so hard you wept enough salt water to keep a sole* in

Is it a sign of the times that the Amazon is burning or could we do something to stop it

Would you pray to a god if you thought it could really change anything

Is it better to do something good and shout about it or suffer in silence

Would you consider yourself sad

Would you consider yourself happy

What does happiness mean to you

Does it feel like chocolate

Does it feel like melted chocolate

Does it feel like the specific feeling of chocolate melting in your mouth before the solid has fully become liquid

Do you even like chocolate

Do you love your mum out of greed or necessity

Are you close to your family

Do you prefer a wedding or a funeral

Do you get jealous

If I watched Love Island would you judge me

Or would you curl up on the sofa beside me with a glass of red wine and indulge in an hour of escapism by watching others succumb to what society expects of relationships

Do you have your own Netflix account

If so what comes up on your recommended list

Is it true crime or chick flicks

Do you love a rom-com because I think everyone kinda loves a rom-com

If I cried would you comfort me or leave the room because neediness makes you nervous

Did you like broccoli when you were a kid

When you fall asleep where do you go

Do you travel universes and warp reality

Do you dip feet in liquid silver dyed by the moon Do you just close your eyes and awaken again

Do you believe dreams mean anything

What’s your star sign

What’s your moon sign

What’s your rising sign

Which one do you identify with the most

Do you subscribe to the fact that astrology is a tool used by intellectual women to believe in something

Are you a feminist

What do you think that word means

Does it make you cringe when I mention it

Does it make your eyes roll into the clouds of your brain when your eardrums absorb it

Are you a good person

Do you believe in kindness

What’s your favourite colour

Do you think the world is black and white or as grey as a bullet

Do you think anything can be considered bulletproof

Do you think everything I touch turns to gold or falls apart

Do you pray to pints of beer or whiskey

When was the last time someone asked you how you really were

Did you answer honestly

Arcadie

Special World – Keelan Powell

There is a special world I sometimes go

Keelan Powell has ten years experience writing poems, music and short stories. He has performed live music and entered poetry competitions, but now wishes to focus upon short story writing. He obtained a First Class Bachelor of Arts degree in Outdoor Education at University of Wales Trinity Saint David and now works within Conservation.

Contact: allez2004@gmail.com

Special world

There is a special world I sometimes go,

here now my mind can flow.

Sweet dreams that forever sing,

the land of no suffering.

–

There is a special world I sometimes go,

the place where time does slow.

When I return, I am alone,

I sit upon my dusty thrown.

–

There is a special world I sometimes go,

the glowing universe no one else does know.

Almighty stars sparkle through the night,

I run free and take flight.

–

Will you join me in this land,

walk together hand in hand.

Watch the bleeding sun upon the sand,

a magical and everlasting land.

Keelan Powell

Nostalgia – John Morshead

I was thinking of her strange hysteria

My name is John Morshead. I was born and raised in London and I am currently 15 years old. Having been a chorister for several years of my life, language was thrusted upon me from a young age, and ever since words and the ways in which they fit together to reach meaning has fascinated me. I am taking my GCSEs this year and am very excited albeit excitement stemming from racked nerves and long nights with coffee. I hope, regardless of the outcome of my writing, that I can make someone smile when they see my writing, or feel something. Be it joy, fear, sadness or any other emotion, to me, the kindling that fuels the raging fire of emotions is words, and to essay to tame that flame is an honour.

Nostalgia

I was standing by mother’s wisteria,

The wistful, wizened curls of lilac like lavender cream.

I was thinking of her strange hysteria

About the man cutting her hydrangeas in her dream.

She would tell me I ought to be careful,

To only take trimmings from the left hand side,

And me gazing lazily on with the dog,

Only to head back on to the cool of inside,

Where we would stand by the wisteria every day until she died.

John Morshead

The Curse – Colson Anx

the people they`re burning

The Curse

When I was young I was bitten

by strangers who saw me at nights.

And now that I’m grown, I am smitten

to continue the bloodline of bites.

–

I don’t need to pass down my own genes

to continue the bloodline at night.

I just need to have access to bad dreams;

It helps to believe it`s all right.

–

And as the moons turning,

I should be still, learning,

but it`s something that I can`t avoid.

It`s never concerning

the people they`re burning

as long as the species’ destroyed.

–

There are things I do against my will

And my will does things against me

And there are people who just think i`m ill

And I would agree, conversly

–

Yet some would persist

we`re just creatures of myth,

but the people they say don`t exist,

are clearer than day

when they`re hunting their prey,

the hard part’s discerning the mix.

–

And I know it`s not right

It`s not a choice that I’ve made:

Rather it is a choice that made me.

Though I can`t contain it,

I`ve learned to restrain it,

as long as I’m still paid my fee.

–

And though the times change,

the tales remain;

I cut my tail clean off in bars.

This is how it ends,

Sterling unmakes;

Not put in bullets, in bars.

–

To end, in a sense,

the word “innocence”

is slowly destroying my soul,

for it can be taken,

but it can`t be given,

and I have become a black hole.

–

And I hope the lines break

for the small part that aches:

A small person in worlds now departed,

but also, unsmartly,

bloodlines impart me

with the only thing keeping me started.

Colson Anx

You – Diane Leopard

YOU changed my world but that’s not bad

In 2013 aged 49 I had treatment for breast cancer. Reflecting on my personal journey and the loss of loved ones gave me the inspiration for this poem.

Written shortly after my 5 year review, I had never written anything until these words flowed from my heart. My wonderful husband, family and friends have been a constant support.

My treatment has gone well and I will always be grateful for the care I received at University Hospital North Midlands from all the breast care team.

I now deliver a thought provoking and original presentation using my own non-clinical photography and poetry – ‘Focus on Emotions’ to both medical staff and the general public to help people understand the emotional impact of a cancer diagnosis. I am also an award winning complementary therapist, keen photographer and write as a guest blogger.

This poem is dedicated to all those who have been touched by cancer.

Here is also a link to an article published about my presentation and photography which may be of interest to you.

https://breastcancerartproject.wordpress.com/2019/03/10/images-through-the-emotional-impact-of-cancer/

YOU

YOU crept silently into my life

YOU came along without warning

No lights flashing, no sirens screaming

Are YOU real or am I dreaming?

YOU turned my world upside down

As only YOU can do

The lights went dim, my head was spinning

I didn’t know if YOU were winning.

–

YOU might stay

YOU might go

Do any of us really know

YOU made my days so cold and lonely

The tears I cried left me empty inside

But, what YOU didn’t know

Is that my world is filled with so much love

I was wrapped in a protective glove.

–

YOU changed my world but that’s not bad

For every day I feel so glad

The beauty that surrounds us all

Was waiting just outside the door

YOU held my life in your cold hand

But YOU gave my world a loving glow.

–

If YOU should ever call again

I’ll walk with YOU into the rain

But just for now we walk together

Your shadow never far away

YOU may come, YOU may go

YOU may take and YOU may hurt

BUT, just for now I want to say

Thank YOU for giving me a bright new day.

By Diane Leopard

Email – dianeleopard@gmail.com

Tally Ho – Rebecca Fall

five years of eyeballs and packaging peanuts

I attend college in North London and this poem was inspired by the nearby town and its features. It can be quite disheartening walking home in the bleak weather in the winter yet I have found writing about its monotony to be uplifting.

Tally Ho

Stealing jewellery from swivelling

contraptions and vendors of

presidential toilet paper in

shops stacked so precariously

I could make a living from twisting my ankle

–

I stand flat against

the perpendicular washed out block and

five years of eyeballs and packaging peanuts

compress me in the wind.

–

The town makes me so sleepy but

I want to stand on your balcony and be sliced high,

sharp. It would be enough. Maybe

you will take a photograph

Rebecca Fall

Alien Vessel – Dean Simon

taught me maths and how to survive

My name is Dean Simon I’m 37 and live in Berkshire, I come from a mixed background and have always loved reading poetry and writing. Recently after finishing a script with a family member I decided to try writing poetry and after completing a few poems now would like to share to see others thoughts.

Alien Vessel

Darkness and creaking

Painful wails then sleeping

Water splash, heads bashed

Ebb, flows then peaking

–

Why wasn’t I quicker

Should’ve listened to sister

Onboard this giant coffin

Faecal smells; fits and coughing

–

Should’ve listened to father

Become a sheep herder

Now shackled like cattle

Alien smells Alien prattle

–

Packed in like taro patch

Many souls soon dispatch

Breath warm blood tasted

Should’ve listened a life wasted

–

Should’ve listened to the old slave man,

One we bought from caravan,

He said they’d come for us too,

Took his family across big blue,

–

Aliens on the alien vessel

Don’t value life they value metal

No escape I must remember

Play the game; feign surrender

–

Remember listening to the old man

He knew science and read Koran

taught me maths and how to survive

How to smelt metals and skin hide

–

When I’m loose of these chains

When I’m free from these aliens

When I’m sure clear of death

I’ll build again remembering

–

Darkness and creaking

Painful wails then sleeping

Water splash, heads crash

Ebb, flows then peaking.

Dean Simon