Swordfighting (Original Writing)

Swordfighting

She snaps my sword
(practically in two)
with a parry and a mighty splintering of wood
I go to fetch some masking tape
as she dances in confetti of shrapnel
The camera clicks
and we draw on symbols with eyeliner

We'll do the ears later
- sharpen them to points with a trusty Photoshop brush
that changes us into liquid

I lay my sword to rest
the injuries sustained
no amount of tape can mend
We look solemn for a moment
us liquidised warriors
with drawn on eyebrows and braided hair
Until I brandish a new sword:
freshly picked
and, again, our battle is punctuated
with the sound of parries and photography

The Circle (Original Writing)

The Circle

Stitch the seams
Prick your finger with a needle
(twice)
Wisecrack over a morphy iron
with fingernails of six different colours:
a spectacular array of watery Superdrug testers
The spectrum of
three woman
two generations
and one Primark

The iron leaves a burn
on the circular skirt
We hide it on the inside:
a fingerprint of carefree creation
Flip the inside-out outsides in, and
viola!
Lordy Lumlocks
and giddy Auntie Jane with a million Jack Russells
We've done it!

A circle of friendship
with a waistband made of sisterhood
A handmade symbol that means
shaved legs
high heels
and a lick of paint

Breathe it in...
the sweet taste of success
mixed with lipgloss that tingles
and tastes like Barbie

We giggle and cluck like hens
dancing Flamenco on a rickety attic floor...

Gormenghast Trilogy Tribute (Original Writing)

Without a doubt I would recommend the masterpieces of Mervyn Peake: Titus Groan, Gormenghast and Titus Alone. Peake is a true word-smith and poet that - without fail- manages to perfectly combine whimsy, fantasy and a sense of reality. Here is my tribute to him and his characters:

Gormenghast Trilogy Tribute (Original Writing)

He is the high-shouldered youth
With a kaleidoscope of egos
A veneer of false perfection
that is, to the observer, a figure from a dream
A mask,
A facade,
A guise...

He is calculated, caustic and callous
Dark, decisive and deadly
Sharp, seductive...Steerpike

She is the lusty sister
The flat chested lady of Gormenghast
A virginal skeleton
In dresses that hug her figure like an extra skin
A stick,
A bone,
A cadaver...

She is carnal, crude but chaste
Decorous, deranged and desperate
Pitiful, prudish... Prunesqualler

It is the kingdom of Selpulchrave
The eternal province of spires
And the majesty of tradition
It watches as Steerpike brings the Monarch to his knees
A citadel,
A fortress,
A tomb...

It is eerie, endless and enduring
Crumbling, cobwebbed and corrupt
Glorious, Gothic...Gormenghast.

Illustrations of Fushia and Steerpike