Creative Writing
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There will be movements in a garden, Birds at low unforeseen angles Your heart will quicken, Frogs. Try to look at the pale light The naming which warms The glow of the lines making emerald the green which for once is not submerged in cold Yes leaves are grey and slip easily into unconscious hiding…
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Transcript from opening remarks by our keynote speaker, Professor Juniper Thrust And now the question will always be – where to start – you see, you see? Never easy is it. Like sponge cakes, homemade aphrodisiacs and garden furniture, it looks a doddle. But let’s take garden furniture. Where would you start? No, nothing in…
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Dr Bart floats past, two nurses in pursuit. Mother is reading Photoplay and wants me to know this; she sniffs and shifts in her seat. Then I see why – it has Ava on the cover in mink, meaning that I’m p.32, one column including headshot: ‘Trina Belmont Takes a Break’, between adverts for Drano…
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This time 44 years ago, my mum was very pregnant and probably annoyed with all of that kind of stuff. She would still look immaculate, mind – she would have shot herself rather than give in to the spread of me across her hips and round her middle – I imagine her in a belted,…
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If I opened you up Lifted the hood And took a look inside I would find a valley Of stones, crushing water A rolling sky-feel inside you. Or thin stretched flat sand The impossibly taut tight string of ocean Still and cruel I don’t see city Paper cups and heels in pavement cracks For you…
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What do you do When the voices in your head Are louder than the here the now When the things she said Are out of proportion A paperclip In a hot air ballooon Through mist but clear they land She can’t hear how words chime on the other side Rolls of thoughts like Fog like…
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A head explodes with A thousand thoughts And I wish they were flowers And riverboat cruises. A good tracksuit, really comfy. Gravel paths, The perfect eyebrow on the right occasion. When your kid Tips their head back to laugh And for a moment you see the Baby again. When frames are straight and solid In…
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This morning a bastard magpie thin, oil skinned, flew into a perfect blackbird nest and flew out dangling a purple chick in its beak. Briefly the chick’s wing spread like fingers. Its first flight. The parents came out and I felt their hysterical no-no-nos As clearly as my own. But I am not being honest.…
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Once I took a photo Of you. With my little camera. We were on holiday Near a castle by the sea All the hits. On a belvedere. A place to look. The lense blinked Just as a dolphin Arched out of the sea below. Triggershot I took another Of you as you turned At the…