I Saw Myself Alive in a Coffin, Kait Quinn's second poetry collection, begins with a wonderful author's note detailing Quinn's honest intentions. Through her experience with depression, grief and suicidal ideation, Death and thinking about death became ever present in Quinn's consciousness and so in her poetry too. And yet, Quinn does not seek to … Continue reading Advance Review: I Saw Myself Alive in a Coffin by Kait Quinn
To celebrate my ten favourite indie/self-published books of 2020, over the next 10 days I will reshare my reviews of these wonderful books and links to buy them! The Virtue of Doubt by Jillian Richardson Jillian Richardson’s The Virtue of Doubt is fresh and different yet harnesses poetry and playwriting with the skill of the … Continue reading Top 10 Indie Books: The Virtue of Doubt, Jillian Richardson
To celebrate my ten favourite indie/self-published books of 2020, over the next 10 days I will reshare my reviews of these wonderful books and links to buy them! Snowdrop: A Collection by Olivia Snowdrop When I read a poetry collection I always look for honesty. I search for the raw and brutal truth which comes … Continue reading Top 10 Indie Books: Snowdrop: A Collection, Olivia Snowdrop
To celebrate my ten favourite indie/self-published books of 2020, over the next 10 days I will reshare my reviews of these wonderful books and links to buy them! The Colour of Hope by Jen Feroze “the world will feel too tight – the skin of a peach about to burst.” [For Louise] These lines from … Continue reading Top 10 Indie Books: The Colour of Hope, Jen Feroze
after Kait Quinn The girl, the husk powdery to touch, frightened of fear and the secrets it keeps. The awe in my eyes when I see you, stitched in the elegant bow of willow trees. Love and beauty, the kingdom of frost melting into mid-july, the childhood of us. The begging, words thick with dust, … Continue reading What are you letting go of?
she meant sometimes the trees seem to whisper every name but yours, and the bluetits titter as the sun rises and sets each day as if mocking your inability to make anyone smile; or the lack of warmth you feel even within your own bones. She meant sometimes love is too short and too sudden; … Continue reading When Sara Bareilles sung ‘she is lonely most of the time’:
My mind, the corner I have kept for you has become a shrine I no longer wish to visit yet heed and pray before each night. My prayers are not gifts nor sweet nothings; they are not even prayers. They are misshapen thoughts, ounces of love without weight. There is nothing for me here anymore … Continue reading Ghosts in black coats
Moonlight shimmers across cobbled courts and Notre-Dame stands stoic in silence; omniscient and omnipotent, stained-glass eyes watching the Seine move beneath the twinkle of stars, the Eiffel Tower and the streets. Men with roses harangue tourists, but we are all seventeen and this is no time to love like strangers at midnight, our bellies full … Continue reading Paris, 2011.
after Jericho Brown When people ask when I first began to write, I think of the walls I first ran my greasy fingers along. The homes I would never call my own but would be called home by everyone who knew me. I knew the walls though - the peeling paint and the damp. I … Continue reading A poem is a gesture toward home
Indie Blu(e) Publishing recently released an anthology featuring writers from all around the globe and it is an honour to have two of my poems included. "And here we are again looking at the world as if through a glass bottomed boat; wondering what is sweet, what is fitting. Wondering when our voices will be … Continue reading As The World Burns – excerpts & review