Tuesday, 8 April 2014

Moon over Scotland(Sentinel Remix)- NaPoWriMo8

It's gotten late,
Very late.
The bus emptied
The further North
We got.
We left some idiots
In Newcastle
(It was pretty
In itself, though).
We left the idiots
And grabbed
The front seats.
So now,
It's gotten late,
Very late.
You are sleeping
Curled in on yourself,
Across the aisle
From me.
She is asleep
Curled in, on my shoulder.
We crossed into
The Scottish border
A moment past
The board said,
Welcome to Scotland
And it felt like,
The grit of the night
Has been rubbed off
By the light
Of the moon over Scotland.
This a late night
Sentinel watch. 
And for once
My heart is
Tender enough
To want to protect
You both
From everything.
This is a Sentinel watch
Just me
And the moon over Scotland.
That is company enough
Sitting at the front of this bus
My heart is
Tender enough
To promise
Anything, Everything
On this Sentinel watch.
Just two sleepers
A watcher
And the moon over Scotland. 

Monday, 7 April 2014

Dreaming Spires-NaPoWriMo7

Oxford, at a glance.

I have dreamed
About the city
Of dreaming spires
For a terribly
Long time indeed
So the actuality
Of it was,
The thing is,
This city is
All about subtleties
And terribly reserved.
So this will not be
A flaming love affair.
This needs to be
A learned love,
A slow love,
A thoughtful love.
I don't know
What the spires
Dream about
But they have seen
The foolish youth
Of so many
Who went on
To mean so much
To an anonymous little girl,
I hope they get
To see mine.
So, I dream incessantly
Of this reserved city
Of dreaming spires. 

Sunday, 6 April 2014


We call it
Back home
(Wherever that is).
Sometimes I think
My wild, wild youth
Is tied up in stories
Of the hookah
In my room.
Smoke makes
My eyes sore
And my head hurt
But Sheesha smoke
Curls seductively
Down my veins
With a sweetish tang.
And the pain
Is worth
The payoff.
Sheesha thrums
In gentle hums
Around my head.
And watercolours
The world
In shades
I swear I could fly!
Let's get chinese!
Hey Emma, you ok?!
Woah, standing sober
Is challenging!
Yes, I think Chinese
Sounds great about now.
Yes, Sheesha
Recalls my
Wild youth
If youth
Is walking down London streeets
Wanting to fly.
It is.

Saturday, 5 April 2014

Taste - NaPoWriMo5

Camden Market is torture on an empty stomach and empties pockets.

I'm starving
To taste
This city.
You can always
Smell a city
You see it.
And this one
Smells divine.
Today I saw how
Sushi was made
With deceptive ease.
This is a sizzle
In the air
That whispers 'Kebabs'
Vision of succulent
Juicy heaven.
Nurdan says
I ought to try
Jerk chicken
But my attention
Is caught
By a fry up
Of noodles
And schezuan chicken.
I think there
Are burgers
Sitting fat
And content
At the corner
Of my eye.
Chips too,
But those
Are better
Up North.
This city
Is shameless
In its excesses-
I approve.
I'm starving
To taste
Each one.

Friday, 4 April 2014

Dreary- NaPoWriMo-4

Written for the longest bus ride ever taken.

This is how it goes-
In a bus,
Half asleeep
An age on the road
An age to go.
This is how it goes-
Darkish skies,
Layered clouds,
Dreary towns
Leading to
Nothing, nothing.
This is how it goes-
A distant land
A dreary day
Why is dreariness
So damn universal?
This is how it goes-
Aching legs
Soreish eyes
Reluctant smiles
London town
Is far, far, far.
This is how it goes-
Pass the time,
Pass the smile,
This is always how it goes.

Thursday, 3 April 2014

Inkpot Monkey - NaPoWriMo 3

I had a rather unfortunate incident at Starbucks. :D

Legends tell
The dread tale
Of a monkey
Living inside
They rather fancy
The taste of ink.
I don't own
An inkpot
(Why ever not?)
But I suspect
The Inkpot Monkey
Of sucking dry
My pens.
Ink on my skin
Ink on my face
Ink of my scarf
Ink on the poor man
Who sat beside me
In Starbucks today
A pen run dry
And no paper to blame.
Nothing to write,
Nothing to say,
Just a pen run dry
And no paper to blame.
Only an inkpot monkey
Up to his antics again.

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

Green - NaPoWriMo 2

Directly inspired by my eternal muse- she's been slacking off on the job lately.

I never think about
The color Green
All that much.
I'm more of a
Blues, Blacks, Reds
Kind of person.
But often,
Unobtrusive as you please,
Green sinuously
Into my vision;
And I remember
Verdant trees
Lush with leaves,
Nurdan's scarf,
A deepish warmth
Home and love and,
Comfort and coffee
Stories and Starbucks,
Rosie's trousers,
Unsual, bright, calming,
For secrets
And whispers
Spring and Summer,
Connemara Hills,
Scottish Lochs,
Your eyes,
Brightly, acidly, joyfully,