I turned 22 a week ago now. In the lead up to my birthday and for some time after, I always find myself reflecting on the year that’s passed and what I’ve learned and how I’ve changed. Initially when someone asks me ‘do you feel any different?’, the answer is most often ‘no’. Because I…
Read More
Recently, I feel that I have started to learn the importance of other people. I have found myself re-evaluating my stance on friendships and relationships. Not necessarily with specific people, but just in general. For a while, I was always coming back to the thought that I was better off on my own. I refused…
Read More
I think my skull would rattle if you shook it –
filled with an assortment of past things.
I’ll pluck and keep them as trinkets,
souvenirs, mementos of has been.
I fear losing thoughts, and days,
so I pocket reminders of each place I go
(in heart, in mind, in body, in soul).
I awoke with my head submerged in water,
ears blocked, the world locked out of my perception.
There’s a knock on a window somewhere but I can’t tell which one
this muffled echo is coming from – a pathetic attempt at a sound.
I’ve lost touch with my senses, like they’re running out of battery,
confused with each other, I can feel sounds but not hear them.
I awoke without thought,
Just blank in my head
And a dream still hauntingly
Hung by a thread,
Unravelling a deepening
Hole in my chest.
These are a few blackout poems I have created, some recently and some from a little while ago. I like doing these when I want to write something but don’t want to conjure something from the depths of my brain. It’s also an interesting restriction to place upon one’s creative capacity, because there are only…
Read More
I found you in a song the other day
And you’ve been stuck in my head ever since.
You hide in faceless laughs and sideways glances,
An illusion in the corner of my eye.
I think I see a flicker of familiar and then
You’re gone, lingering as a distant relic
Or existing in only two dimensions –
Frozen in photographs
Where I don’t quite look like me.
I’m told I was conjured from a flickering light,
Or dancing phosphenes –
Dots of red and blue and green
Arranging to become me.
But I don’t remember it any more than
A child remembers being born.
Then again, I don’t remember life at all.
With you there are no daydreams
Or holding on to night dreams.
You are all my dreams in one.
A pocket dream in the coat of reality,
A door opened to a world bigger on the inside with
Life chaotically everywhere,
But in here it is still and only ever now.
To day dreaming-ly hum is perhaps
My brain’s break
From my own thoughts,
Because it feels like somebody else
Is thinking them.
Lauren Kathleen 