Autumn knocked on my door
this morning
Her hair was auburn
& she was armed with a pumpkin spiced latte
Her scarf was like a blanket
& her boots were lined with fur
She pulled me in for a hug
& squeezed me so tight that my snack
Of assorted biscuits
Travelled it's way back up...
The scents of cinnamon & star anise
Whirled around & choked the air
Every waking day
I am born again
Adopting a new version
Armed with a previous days
Knowledge
& history
& Pulling back the duvet
I will rise out of my sheets
Like a phoenix
Rebirth
I push the past
Out of the way...
Facing what's ahead
Until tomorrow
When I am
Born again
My lips quiver & shake
Chin following
Teeth cluttering
Mouth parted
Until I cry
Like I am a child again
Muttering a "This isn't fair"
Following with a stomp of my feet
& a kick of a chair
Chase Your Dreams, Not Instagram Likes
- 2:54 PM
- By Jazmine Cartwright
- 0 Comments
Who gives a shit
About how many likes
Your last post on Instagram got?
Oh right
You do
& I used to be the same
Wondering what I could do
To reach fame...
But at the end of the day
I'd rather have ten likes
on a poem that I worked
My ass off for
Because ten people in a room is much more
Then I'd really be comfortable with anyway
And these ten people may even comment
We may have a conversation out of it
Out of me chatting shit
So why chase likes?
Instead chase your dreams
Put a pen to paper
& just write
Write everything you
See
Feel
Breathe
Poetry is where life is
It's alive if you want it to be
It's here for you more than you believe
& the people who are on the same journey
Are here too
Maybe at a different stage
But still the same road
Not distracted by sign posts
That scream a lack of dignity
Or toxicity
Or evil
So crave simplicity in these times of need
& fuck what's considered acceptable if you're happy
Keep chasing those dreams
Instead of acceptance of others
Chase what life really should be
Follow the laws of living healthily
& aim to be free
Heart of Gold
Berlin
But not an inch of glamour
A hostel
Not a hotel
or something of the latter
A man floating about
& wandering
but doesn't have a key
He's just begging for a room
& everyone is letting him be
A football shirt
& faded tattoos
He's walking here
Then walking there
All over the boat
He's making friends
& chatting shit
Looking like a right tit
He has no clothes
But a packet of crisps
Asking for cash
his limbs peaking out
& a bright red angry rash
People go about their lives
Walking
Sitting
Talking
I find it hard to romanticise
When I don't even know them
No feelings attached
May as well be a one-night stand
A quick 'sorry'
When you bump shoulders
But otherwise
No chat
Maybe if you're lucky
We may even hold eye contact
But a stranger can become a lover
From out of the blue
Until it ends quicker than planned
And you hadn't wanted it to
Then the lover becomes a stranger
With nothing you can do
You barely recognise them
& they feel the same way about you too...
Spring showers are shit
Unpredictable & surprising
I dressed for the summer
Then shivered home
Crying
My bare legs
Red
With goosebumps & pimples
It's a good job
I didn't cross the line
& dust off my flip-flops
"It's freezing out there"
Then a shiver & a shake
I've heard the same line
Over & over
There's no mistake
I let out a fake laugh
& a cheesy big smile
Customers test my patience
Every once in a while
This is a poem
For my first love
It is not a he
Nor a she
Physically underwhelming
May I say
But the feelings that I get
In my stomach
& my mind
The little blush & laugh
& smile
Always there
Anytime
Any day
An extension of
My heart & soul
I'd marry it
If I could
My first true love
Is always here
Poetry
Thank you
For being
My muse
Cobble streets &
Wheely suitcases
Walking on the road
A group of tourists
A speeding car
They're in their stopping-and-chatting mode
Several honks of the horn
Until they realise their errors
Families abroad
Just seem to go feral
An all-inclusive package
Is by far the worst
Stacking up plates
Until their burnt bellies burst
Alcoholic drinks watered down
Full of ice
But you're already tipsy
Your fake tan is looking nice...
You found a hotel
That you seem to like
Now you go every year
At a discount price
The staff know your name
& you know theirs
Keeping up to date
With their family affairs
But there's something not quite right
& it doesn't feel like home...
Oh well...
It's just another thing for you to
Complain about & moan
A man's version of
Live
Laugh
Love
is...
It's coming home
Misery turns to excitement
& that moody alcoholic...
cracks a smile
I couldn't care less if we win
But to see English men have a glint in their eyes
Makes all of this football rubbish
Worthwhile
& I'm rooting for our team
It would get men out of their depression
It would make pigs fly
Cheese would become affordable again
Perhaps all this country needs is a win
so next time...
It's coming home
I'm more of a casual type
Baggy t-shirts
Converse
Fountain pen to write
I'm easy to please
Strike up a conversation
About anything deep
& I promise
I'll be intrigued
Cause honestly?
Your existence is the greatest gift
To me...
Optimistic
Spiritualistic
Mentally Strong
But...
Don't discuss statistics
Cause... I'm bad at maths
& I seem to say the wrong things
At the wrong times
But...
I'm unapologetically me
& that's hardly committing a crime
Dad
It's hard to talk about you
Without my voice breaking
It will be a year in a month
Since I got that call
& You were lying peacefully in bed
For the last time
But we'd like closure now
Still
No death certificate
& Last week I had to identify
His handwriting
With the police stood over me
asking if I knew anything
It's an in-depth inquest
& I just want it done
Because this stress is harder
Then I let on
Replaying these memories in my head
Crouched over your bed
Looking at the pillows
Where you last laid your head
& I asked why?
But we stripped the bed
Took the sheets
To the tip
& I cried
I still cry
Sometimes I call your phone
Just to hear your voice saying
"Hi, leave a message after the tone..."
It's Not The Government You Should Fear, It's Yourself
- 1:14 PM
- By Jazmine Cartwright
- 0 Comments
How is life?
Are you all still distracting yourselves
From your trauma?
Drinking...
So that you don't sit in a room
Thinking...
What is so scary
About your thoughts?
Are you too busy with your children &
Catching up with the latest episode of your favourite
Soap or series or drama?
Putting on a video in the background
Or a film
or anything...
So that you can't hear the gentle buzz of life
When was the last time
That you heard the birds?
When was the last time
That you walked on grass barefoot?
When was the last time
That you put yourself first?
Now...
I don't mean buying a takeaway or having a holiday...
Silly!!
When was the last time
That you listened to your thoughts
& faced the truth?
How about now?
One day
Your body & your mind
will tell you
That you are done
It won't suffer anymore
This will be the most
Inconvenient time...
Or so you think
You'll snap
& You'll say
I'm sick of all this shit
You'll grow wings out of your back
& that ego of yours will shrink
Everyone always seems to fear death
But you can die
Whilst still being alive
Rebirth is almost as easy
As washing your hands in a sink
You'll see people for their intentions
Before they've even had time to blink
The elderly couple
Sit on their table
They've got a taxi here
Every day that we're open
All year...
Toastie orders
Soft
Slow bites
The cheese is oozing
Same thing
All the time
Sharing a knife between them
Then reusing it for their afters
Melted cheese clings to their knife
Then their cakes...
There's a bit of cheese
Jumping to every one of their plates
They always seem happy
& are usually content
Until you don't have their toast
Then love turns straight
To hate
Every time I have a phone call
With my friend Wayne
We have distractions...
The world gives us
It's best shot.
Groups of families
Walking at 2 miles per hour
In front of us
Like a human barrier
Cars reversing
Almost hitting us
People falling off bikes
Old people with trollies
3 police cars and an ambulance
We can't be hit
Our health will go down
We must complete the level
& accept the side quests
Oh no
The final wave is starting...
I don't like pretty people...
I like rough...
worn round the edges
grungy
&
messy
Dragged through a hedge backwards
kind of people
The people who don't have much time
To do themselves up
Because they've been busy doing other stuff...
He leans over me
Shoulder touching mine
Smiling with his eyes
Speaking softly
Quietly
Pointing out of the plane window
"I love this part...
It's so beautiful"
In his thick slovakian accent...
He points again
The plane lowers into the clouds
Slowly
Seductivly
& teasing
Covering the wings & windows
In fluffy
Marshmallow like
Goodness..
I blush at the thought of him
finding poetry
in something so beautiful
before I could...
I'm starting to socialise again...
In those tough six months
It was rough
& social anxiety turned up
With a torch
They came to me with
Open palms &
Inviting arms
Reassuring that I'd be out of harms way
But they lied
I was not better off
In fact
Quite the opposite
But...
Not to worry
That relationship was only temporary
We broke up and now I'm back
Smiling
Laughing
& Chatting
Today will be the last day
That I get used as a doormat
I have made mistakes
I have socially checked out
& I have met karma too many times
This week alone...
For the foreseeable future
I am busy
Busy being sat at home
Don't call
Don't text
Don't bother
Because
I won't pick up the phone...
To call this season... Summer
We may require the sun
But remember we're in England
Down the road
The water runs
A cup of tea
Inside a blanket
& listening to the downpour
This English summer was here for a day
Teasing you with some warmth
& then the weather switched 3 times
& that was just before you'd had lunch
Yeah, yeah I'm loving the weather
& your sarcasm
Thanks a bunch
How do you know
That I’m real?
How do you know that
I’m not AI generated
On the ‘internet’
But
Even If you have
Met me
Are you even real?
My cheeks are sore
Soaked with tears
I’m living each second
But my minds not here
Blank face and have little care
Feeling suicidal
Motivation stripped bare
I held onto the thought of us
I held onto our friendship
& the fact that we considered each other
Family
You were my best friend
& my brother
We could be ourselves
Around each other
We wouldn’t judge
But once I’d met
The real you
Fucking hell
It all made sense
You’re the worst human being
I’d ever met
& I’m glad our ‘friendship’
Is in the past tense
I’d love to create a portrait
Of myself
But it would be abstract
It would be my mind & soul
Splattered on a page
3d, 4d
You’d hear bizarre sounds
You’d feel the flush
Of my cheeks
& you’d feel a cat
On your lap
Because a basic portrait
Has never been further from
My vibe
When our lips touch,
my heart explodes,
Passion whirls around the room.
The rain on your windows,
Under the duvet,
Body goals.
I'm in love with you,
It's time to watch our life unfold.
Falling for you harder
every time you say my name
No matter the distance our feelings stay the same
Your laugh and your smile
Will always fill me with glee
I don’t think you realise Kieran
How happy you’ve made me
Being a writer is...
Writing on the back of receipts
It’s crumpled drafts
Bus tickets
Half a poem written
But...
In four different inks
I could have sworn
This pen worked yesterday
But the universe is trying to stop me
Connect the dots
Connect the links...
There’s a lot of pressure
to fit into a box
A box that’s too small
A box that you must lose weight to get into
Or a box that you have to fit in perfectly but it’s too big
And will fit a family of four in
A box that you have to get through security to enter
No tattoos
No piercings
Blonde hair
Big boobs
A job that’s considered acceptable
Your hobbies should consist of
Yoga or Zumba
And slimming world
You should complain about your husbands and how tired you are and how your kids are just being trouble recently…
You constantly lose your temper and your husband escapes at any opportunity possible because a simple shopping trip or even watching TV just consists of stress…
Why would I want to live that way?
Why should I fit into your box?
Shaved legs
Matching underwear
Makeup & washed hair
Is not a sign that a
Woman loves you
Try a messy bun
A stained t-shirt
& prickly legs
Bad breath
Morning sex
Stopping in the middle
To fart...
That’s what real love is
It upsets me to think
That people look to religion
For answers
Instead of the inner voice
That they label as
‘God’
When in reality
The gut feeling
The voice that they hear
The ideas
Are all their
Gut feelings
And egos
So instead of praying
To a so-called ‘God’
Please
Listen to yourself
First
Codewords
Rambling
Talking shit
Or am I?
Am I a villain...
Or a am I a genius?
The groups of men
Smoking outside
The coffee shop
Gold cigarette ends
Leave a trail
Stained ash trays
Red chairs
Sugar packets soaked
Drowning
In ignored
Last gulps
Abandoned
Wonky tables
Damp
At an angle
Toastie packets
Cheese tangled
Ham, cold
Rejected & recycled
By the birds
But the cigarette butts
Are digesting
In the poor birds’ guts
Apparently
There are two brains
In our bodies
One in our head &
One in our gut
It’s where our gut feeling comes from
I see it as one of our senses
See
Smell
Taste
Hear
Touch
Gut feeling...
Support your local jester
Support your local theif
Support your local tree
Support your local leaf
Support your local druggie
Support your local Chinese
But don’t support the government
Or those that cause you grief
Support your local poet
The one who holds a pen
Don’t support the government
I must repeat again
Support your friends
& their dreams
Back them at all costs
Support the local businesses
& those that you love lots
I think my calls
Are recorded
My whereabouts are tracked
I think my details are saved
I’ve probably been hacked
It doesn’t help that I talk
About things that may make you sick
But to me I find it interesting
How other people think
I’d like to get some inspo
It’s only for a book
Let me get on with life
& continue to do some research
I am not a psycho
I won’t commit a crime
Us writers would never do such thing
We’d never find the time
I am so hungry
For not just food
But the warmth of your lips
On my cold cheeks
I am hungry for your love
& your body
Pressed against mine
Exchanging heat
I am so hungry for when
Your fingers run through my hair
Whilst our limbs intertwine
& our eyes meet
I am hungry for you
Like a wolf is for a sheep
I am hungry for you
& my God
You look tasty enough
To eat
With this many blocks
I might as well
Build a house
I like writing
The word ‘Love’
I like the flow
Of the ‘L’ and the ‘O’
It’s just a beautiful word
To write
We need more love
In the world
& if I could spread it
By writing the word
A million times
Well
I would just love it...
I think love is the best emotion
& much deeper than people realise
When you really love something
Or someone
You’ll understand people’s fascination
With worship & religion...
Real love will make you commit crimes
It will give you tunnel vision.
The next time someone tells me
“I love you”
I want them to prove it
I want them to kill for me
The gentle purring and buzzing
Right next to my ear
Fish of different kinds
Much tamer
Swimming near
The statement about their memory
Is simply just a myth
As soon as they see us
We give them a little lift
Beef hearts & blood worms
Splash into the tank
They all come out of caves
& click & eat
So loud
But the loudest part
Is not actually the fish
It’s the filter under my pillow
Humming & purring
Sort of like white noise
It makes me piss.
You will never see me angry…
Just sad
My therapist says it’s because when I was a baby
And I was screaming to be fed
No one came to help
subconsciously I gave up shouting
Avoided conflict and fighting
Stopped asking for help
Pushed aside how I really felt
Solitary confinement is unlawful
For more than 72 hours
But try feeling abandoned since birth
No one can hurt me anymore because it will never be as bad
As what I’ve experienced before
Awakening me from
A deep slumber...
You’d think it would
Be a cat
Paws & sounds
And jumping
From the windowsill
To my back
But this rude awakening
Doesn’t meow
Or nibble my hair
The brightness & the heat
Usually come as a pair
Oh, the light!
Her presence is made
I’m awake much earlier
Than I seemed to anticipate