Maybe it’s because I’m in the middle of writing Reborn Bloodlines, the sequel to Twisted Bloodlines, but I’m feeling quite appreciative of the moon. It’s just inherently magical to me, in the way that it changes form every night, from crescent to full moon and everything in-between, and everything that you see under moonlight seems otherworldly in a rather beautiful yet eerie way. I’ve got a lot of thoughts, in any case, and my thoughts always seem to work themselves into poetry, so here you go!
Nerve Cells
As my brain dutifully remains in my head – or, at least, I think it does – all day, every day, I think it’s only fair that I dedicate a writing piece to it. After all, it does have to work all day. Weirdly enough, I seem to be doing even more work now that it’s the summer holidays, but my brain manages to keep up somehow, even if it does generate regular headaches. So, aside from treating it with coffee and random bursts of inspiration, I’ve decided to give it the gift of words… that it has to come up with itself. I don’t think I’ve thought this through. Oh well!
Bus Ride
I wrote this poem as part of my senior creative writer position with FOURALL Magazine, and I was lucky enough to have it featured in their seventh issue. Bus Ride takes mental health and the metaphor of an empty bus and explores the ‘road to recovery’ and how it can sometimes be very difficult to begin that process and actually let people in. I hope you enjoy this poem!
Cats Wild Excerpt
Guess what’s happening on the 1st July? Well, many different things may be happening on that day, but it’s a really special day for me because I’ll be releasing Cats Wild on 1st July! My newsletter subscribers will be receiving a nice newsletter edition of the eBook at 7 am GMT on this day, and you can join them by heading to my home page and subscribing! But if you’re interested in getting a taste of Cats Wild today, you can keep reading and check out an excerpt from the first chapter today.
Goosebumps
I will admit that, while writing this poem, I got really confused about what it was actually about. It started human and ended up abstract, although it was meant to remain human, and now it feels oddly macabre – at least, to me. I honestly have no idea how you’ll read this and what you’ll take from it, but it left me with a feeling that was a little like an echo, whatever that means. I hope you enjoy it, anyway!
Battle
I am currently, as I write this, engaged in a terrifying battle of wills with a rather bold spider who has decided that my bedroom curtains are now his home. This is not a true fact – the bedroom curtains belong very firmly to this house where I live, and where the spider does not live, but he is continuing with his antics regardless. So, what is a writer to do but write a poem about this experience and hope that the spider sees it and becomes so ashamed with his brazen behaviour that he promptly moves out. Well… here’s hoping, anyway.
Consider Magic
I guess I’m in a bit of a whimsical mood today, because this piece is more of a contemplative one. We’ll be glancing at the concepts of magic and energy within the world and perceptions of reality and nature – a bit deep, I know, but the inspiration for this poem must have come from somewhere so I might as well entertain it. Without further ado, please enjoy the poem!
Heatwave
It’s scorching outside, so I thought I’d write a flash fiction piece about summer and childhood memories and all those lovely topics that bundle together so well, mixed with a little adult pessimissm. Oh, I’m eighteen now – this is my first blog post that has been written while I’m an adult! Very exciting. But anyway, please enjoy this short flash fiction piece!
Walking Home
This week’s piece, as you may have guessed, was inspired by my walk home today. It’s funny how you can be taken from inspirational happiness to existential sadness by a single walk, but that’s the way the world is. I tried to combine nature with the impact of the manmade world, but I think the nature always shines through a little more in my poetry. In any case, here’s Walking Home!
On Printers And Blue Paper
This week’s piece is a poem inspired by my English Literature teacher at college, Chris, who was rather upset when he discovered that someone left blue paper in the printer. This caused a relatively small stir in the classroom, since he had to print out worksheets twice, but, in the moment, he suggested that the poets we study would turn this moment into a poem. Taking the opportunity, I grabbed a notebook and jotted down a poem. Upon reading it, he was surprised and said that it accurately portrayed his feelings in the moment, so I thought I’d share it with you today!
Oskar Leonard 