So we're in the wild mist of the National Poetry Writing Month and 2 of Bad Language's very own have been taking part. As a little taster here's a pick of two poem's that have been written fresh! Fresh!
Here's one from Daniel Carpenter written in the early days, day 3:
For two women waiting outside Victoria station on a Saturday night.
You share cigarette smoke chatter, under
train station canopies and practise cartwheels
on the gravel. Under glowstick Manchester
sky you change into comfy shoes, tossing
neon purple high heels with dismissive regal
hands. There is electric blue air dancing,
sparking, swaggering around and fractured
disco ball glisten spotlights dancefloor puddles.
A couple embrace under departure board green,
threatening their children with further displays;
you giggle a fifteen year old girl's giggle,
twenty years in waiting; polish off plastic
glass of wine and walk on, leaving no trace,
but a single slippered heel.
Here's a taster from Nicola West's effort from day 3:
Sunday Morning
Your toes, touch the tips of mine,
As we lay side by side.
Sticky summer heat, creeps down my skin,
As I let it rest against yours.
And,
Sometimes, only sometimes
Your lips fit perfectly into mine.
We want to know who else is taking part in NaPo WriMo so get in touch!
Here's one from Daniel Carpenter written in the early days, day 3:
For two women waiting outside Victoria station on a Saturday night.
You share cigarette smoke chatter, under
train station canopies and practise cartwheels
on the gravel. Under glowstick Manchester
sky you change into comfy shoes, tossing
neon purple high heels with dismissive regal
hands. There is electric blue air dancing,
sparking, swaggering around and fractured
disco ball glisten spotlights dancefloor puddles.
A couple embrace under departure board green,
threatening their children with further displays;
you giggle a fifteen year old girl's giggle,
twenty years in waiting; polish off plastic
glass of wine and walk on, leaving no trace,
but a single slippered heel.
Here's a taster from Nicola West's effort from day 3:
Sunday Morning
Your toes, touch the tips of mine,
As we lay side by side.
Sticky summer heat, creeps down my skin,
As I let it rest against yours.
And,
Sometimes, only sometimes
Your lips fit perfectly into mine.
We want to know who else is taking part in NaPo WriMo so get in touch!
