My advice to any young poet
Is Own It

People will tell you you’re not good
Or worthy

They’ll list bards and beauties

There is always someone they’ll measure you against
And you’ll come up short

Your anger will be coarse
Your sadness will be seen as weakness or self-indulgence
Your joy shallow

Any emotion you lay claim to with be labeled naïve

But this is how the world works

Youth is mistrusted and mocked
Age is respected

Look around at everyone who has power
You’ll see a pattern
Like a rhyming couplet

Don’t follow suit
Be you

How can I begin
To enjoy a piece of writing
That requires such a high level of concentration
That my brow is beseiged by this din?
Why have we bequest such reverence
To someone whom
Centuries hence
Is the still the ultimate dead white dude?
What Western canon
So violent past prime
Hath made a muse of the national curriculum
Please can I read a woman of colour next time?
Remix a sonnet?
I’m on it like a car bonnet

I handed in my notice
And now I can’t focus

I handed in my notice
And I’m fantasising about houses

I handed in my notice
And I’m thinking about colleges

I handed in my notice
And I celebrated with pizza

I handed in my notice
And I am having a haircut

I handed in my notice
And I emptied out my desk

I handed in my notice
And I texted my sister

I handed in my notice
And I bought my nephew a toy train carriage

I handed in my notice
And I took a day in lieu

I handed in my notice
And I wrote a poem

I handed in my notice
And I organised a meeting with future colleagues

I handed in my notice
And I was interviewed for a website about work experience

I handed in my notice
And I was published for the first time in ten weeks

I handed in my notice
And I was sent free lingerie

I handed in my notice
And I deactivated my social media accounts

I handed in my notice
And I was told my latest work of art would not be used in an exhibition

I handed in my notice
And I was given an Easter Egg

I handed in my notice
And I slept well

Eight months until Christmas
We are a third of the way through the year
Although I’m not fan of yule
This time always brings me cheer

I like a warm spiced cider
And fairy lights on the window
Snuggled up in a blanket
Watching the street below

I visit the market stalls
The smell of waffles and sweetmeats
Chessboards and Russian dolls
Laughter fills the streets

My hands bleed and my gloves itch
Cold makes my joints ache
I cry as I roll out of bed
The shower slaps me awake

I am broke as hell
My Name Day comes and goes
I start to feel anxiety
Snot drops out of my nose

Why is this season so magical?
Yet a time for such unease?
The truth is I wouldn’t change it
Now can I have spring please?

Use once
And the skill is learnt
Added to the inventory

I wish
Real life textbooks could work this way too

Imagine a world
Where all knowledge is absorbed
Instantly
And easily recalled

I listen to audiobooks
Late at night

Omelette du fromage

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8C-hQleMFhY