Lauren Kathleen

November 11, 2018November 13, 2018

Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree – a documentation of growing pains.

Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree.

If I were a tree at least I’d know my purpose (or I wouldn’t know I had one).

But instead I’m here, not still but not moving, questioning…

Who am I supposed to be?

November 9, 2018November 7, 2018

Adventures in film

I have recently acquired an old film camera of my dads. I’ve been wanting to shoot film for ages and ages but have been waiting for the perfect opportunity to try it out before investing lots of money in a camera.. so when this one simply fell into my hands I was beyond thrilled. I’ve…

November 7, 2018November 7, 2018

Things the trees told me – A poem

Today the trees told me
That when their branches creak above me
It means they’re listening
And if I hear them whispering
They’re talking about me.
Today the trees told me
All the things they overhear
When we’re near enough
And our minds are loud
Every thought we think is clear.
The trees talked and listened to me today

September 21, 2018April 6, 2019

Red

You have left stain
Upon stain
Upon me
Across the surface of my body
And upon my brain
It’s a wonder my skin
Hasn’t turned red yet.

September 20, 2018September 20, 2018

Fill in the blanks

Have you ever noticed how most people in dreams don’t have faces?

September 18, 2018April 6, 2019

My front porch – A poem

Whenever my breath feels stale but I need to breathe,
I sit on my front porch (preferably in the early morning
But sometimes afternoon)
Only when it’s sunny
(Usually I have to squint my eyes but I don’t mind)
It cleanses me in a funny sort of way
(Even when it’s loud with endless planes
And cars and caravans
Travelling from the park up the road)
Everything seems quiet
Everything seems calm
The breeze settles a stillness within me
As I sit behind my white picket fence
The world seems at ease
And everyone and everything is just
Living their lonely lives

September 16, 2018September 14, 2018

100

100 words for my 100th post

September 15, 2018September 14, 2018

Everything that’s left

Journal entry: 14/9 | 9:27pm Yesterdays are only mixtures of memories and maybes. Maybe I’d be happier if things had been different. But maybe I wouldn’t be me. I try not to regret. I try not to let all the stories that fill me, consume me. Time is only the rhythmic in and out of…

September 14, 2018

Grey skies and no rain – A poem

This is one of my favourite poems in my new book, ‘Messages in Bottles (hoping happiness replies)’. By the way, it’s not actually about grey skies or rain.