Tag: Eyes

Creative Writing, Venue

The Attic Head

The ceramics teacher wanted to make mothers of us, ‘Make yourself in your image,’ and we all got to work, squeezing these wet slabs, pressing, thumbing, stretching lids over eyes, strands over scalps, building a mirror from the dust that layered every hand.   Back from the kiln, the ward, its birthing heat, and I…

Creative Writing

Confidence

Public speaking always terrified me. I hated the sound of my own voice Amplified through the microphone, Every crack of my throat audible against the silence of the room. I feared the multitude of faces Staring at me like dolls lined up in a toyshop, Their marble eyes glued to my body. I shuddered at…

Creative Writing

Treptow-Köpenick

Away from the centre, from the anxious headache, The mad rush of Brandenburg Gate, Reichstag, Tiergarten, Bundestag, Pull me out, lift me up, and let me take My own small piece Of this German Manhattan: Ich möchte retten The city I see splashed over postcards and shot on film, The clichéd Berlin – oh please…

Creative Writing

Synesthetist

Ringing red lips, resounding around the room. Aniseed accent, lingering for me to lick off long after.   Trembling taste. And you smell blindingly bright. While your pheromones take lightest flight on softest feathers. And in a million more ways than I can convey. You impress yourself upon me. But I can’t say. Because the…

Creative Writing

Haiku’s on A Winter Morning

Children with eyes wide, Exhale their warm breath slowly To watch the air dance. – Misty clouds of air Evaporate around me, And trouble my mind. – The frostbitten grass, waits timelessly, in the cold, hopeful for the sun. Like Concrete on Facebook to stay up to date

Creative Writing

Girl outside

Have you seen her eyes? Searching grass stains Reaching up the bark Of her rough touch, Rough hands Legs like hay, the hairs like needles, Could lose thoughts in them, do you understand? Oh, have you seen her eyes? Dancing lily pads, I once tried to catch them in the lake — Silly mistake, oh…

Creative Writing

A Wakeful Dark beneath the Eyes

Words cannot describe how sorry I am. I know exactly how you came across this, which books you’ve frantically read, what you desperately scoured the internet for in the dead of night. All in order to find out why your classmate, your friend, your lover, has changed. I know it is starting to tunnel through…

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