Creative Writing Archives | Page 2 of 63

Creative Writing, Venue / 04/08/2020 A modern house built on grey clouds

Old hoping thing Go gently now On those dark nights, Where rats huddle in the garden’s compost heap To hide with empty thoughts. Billowing across the street, a black hand demanding answers clutching on to the houses. Trying to rip the windows out of their frames, To leave them choking in a watery mess on...

Creative Writing, Venue / 04/08/2020 Hectic

Hectic. That’s the only word I have for today. Sure, it’s been in the works for months – I signed the agreement weeks ago – but nothing can prepare you for the moment the once empty, internet-trapped room becomes your castle. Billy cried this morning. He – and I quote – wanted to know why...

#BLM, Creative Writing, Venue / 30/06/2020 Just Platonic?

There are relationships doomed to suffer, and relationships that make suffering. Like a cop who kisses his gun at night and lays it under his pillow. The only Black he dares to touch is the butt of his precinct-funded revolver; he tends her like a prized cow raised for slaughter, cocking his perverse killing machine....

#BLM, Creative Writing, Venue / 30/06/2020 #BlackLivesMatter

We see people in the streets: Eyes ablaze, voices loud, hearts angry; More aware of injustice than we’ve ever been. We will not be silenced. We ask to be taught our past To know better, do better, be better – Statues are falling, attitudes are evolving, people are learning. We demand a better future. We...

Creative Writing

#BLM, Creative Writing

White oppression’s pandemic

Lockdown is a hassle for white, republican moms. It’s a brunch time, lunch-in time, crunch time interruption, deserving of a protest in Trader Joe’s as mimosas and defiance and declarations of freedom flow and flow past unused riot shields and PPE bikinis and forcefield clad M*GA hats that prevent the armoured blows of batons on…

Creative Writing, Venue

This World, A City

This world, a city, dragged me by force uprooted me from a town that parented me. It took me in, made an adult, from a child, reared me to walk tall, two feet, no crawling anymore, each foot, on familiar stones. Home. Like Concrete on Facebook to stay up to date

Creative Writing, Venue

Quarantine Week Six

It is the tenth of May 6:58p.m. and we are all huddled up on the living room sofa hands wringing hands phones poised on each letters each of us in preparation (though we know the rumours the leaks the consequences) our stomachs bundled like our arms in our duvets mouths slack and transfixed; waiting, waiting…

Creative Writing, Venue

Fight Night

And he didn’t want to box again. Didn’t want to stand over that boy to see his thin lip pumped fat like a twisted balloon, misshapen and almost cleft. A scab had formed on the crumpled cut and H knelt to say it’s fine, you’ll be fine but they pushed him away to the corner….

Creative Writing, Venue

When This is Over

Son, when all this is over you will remember there’s an entire world out there that you have never explored, so you will run around and meet other kids and play tag and fill your lives with laughter, and this house will be a home once more instead of prison walls or some fortified tower…

Creative Writing, Venue

Little Things

I spend my days in four rooms, spread over two floors, no garden. It’s enough for me. The house has its quirks; leaky taps, a shower that doesn’t quite work, oddly coloured carpets and a dodgy boiler system. Yet for all this it anchors me because I know these 4 walls will still stand tall…

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Creative Writing, Venue / 04/08/2020 A modern house built on grey clouds

Creative Writing, Venue / 04/08/2020 Hectic

Creative Writing, Venue / 04/08/2020 My Illness Has Teeth

#BLM, Creative Writing, Venue / 30/06/2020 Just Platonic?

#BLM, Creative Writing, Venue / 30/06/2020 #BlackLivesMatter

#BLM, Creative Writing, Venue / 30/06/2020 Our Thoughts