This is the only entirely autobiographical poem I've ever written. It was incredibly difficult and could only come out as free verse, which is fitting I suppose. I don't share it lightly, but for International Women's Day I think it's important to remind everyone that no matter what you've been through, someone else knows what it's like and has survived it as well. I don't for one second pretend that my situation was as dire as that of far too many women around the world.
Lately, Gold Coast news has been full of "the ice epidemic", focussing on teenagers. I know that from a position of middle class, middle-aged privilege it's easy to write off these young people as "scum" or "worthless pieces of trash" as has been reported. Let me make one thing perfectly clear: I hate methamphetamine. I hate the people who sell it to children and I hate seeing what it does to these bright young souls gone dull and burned out long before their time. I know it
Topic 25: Write a poem inspired by a murder
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at Pig Pen Poetry Home The alley is silent. Rain glistens on concrete
and tar, stretching shadows beneath a single light.
She served drinks in the club until midnight. Still
in her stockings and heels, she walks home along
familiar streets, unconcerned. This is her city.
She turns into the alley, a shadow moves, she screams.
This only happens on the scr
Topic 06: a poem inspired by the euphoria of the first time you do something (sex, love, drugs, poetry) or possibly inspired by the longing for recapturing that feeling of the first time Form : any Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com Sunrise
Perfectionism does not lend itself much
to euphoric moments. Every first is flawed,
and every retry admits fault.
My voice sounds like her voice now. At least
I try to say different