Walking Stardust

Walking Stardust Breathing in the warmth of your skin, your eyelashes flutter like petals, sleeping. I stare into the dusty black room. Light creeps through the blinds. Hitting the wall with its luminous glow. A romantic feeling pulses through the layers of my skin. I...

My Name In Black & White

I have been extremely busy over the past couple of weeks so forgive me for not updating my blog as often as I should be doing. I have been juggling university work with my two new writing jobs. I am now a blogger for Grads.co.uk and a book reviwer at Good Vibrations...

Foreign Words

My eyes are derelict. Infant and fresh. Absorbing foreign words, foreign faces. My mother tongue, tangled, twisted, amongst vowels of confusion. Their faces shine with welcoming eyes. A barrier present, cold and strange. Muttering, handshakes, kisses – swapped and...

Poetry Is

Poetry is freedom. Poetry is emotion. Poetry will always be whatever you choose for it to be. It is hard to define poetry because poetry can be anything you want it to be. It can be one word placed in the middle of a page. It can be fifteen pages long if you want it...

The City That Never Sleeps

Overcast sky, luminous lights. Kinetic energy, Silhouette heights. Livestock rushing, around in the heat. Camera’s clicking, rushing to Wall street. Broadway symphony, TV colours explode. A Yellow blur of taxis, fight for the road. Skyscrapers standing, proud,...