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.

It is the bones. It is the rattle and crack of what remains as the caws of the corvids scrape across tar, crying for flesh; feeding their young. The young remain forced into the thousand crosses of Calvary; bound as the countless virgins frozen under the hands that will raise them to whore. Our nests are thorns dipped in gold. Old temples crush the new and call it charity. Images line the walls of the grave. Miracles run black over withered palms; th

Many thanks to milo and the good folk at Pig Pen Poetry for a fantastic month of inspiration and enjoyment. Topic 30: Write a poem about things ending Form: any Line requirements: 8 lines or more It ends with a whimper a simper a Möbius stripper a tripper with coins on his eyes a sunflower spiral surprise a caramel camel in painted enamel and three kinds of burger with fries one orientation without aberration one nation with infinite lies #NaPM2016 #ending #

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 24: Write a poem inspired by a movie Form : any Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com No Redemption Behind the woman is a wall upon which she, two-dimensional, must abide in silence. Men see flesh and are moved to covet, but will not challenge he who already possesses her. But he is not those men. He uses her for misdirection, discards her when she has served her time, moves on to the next. Gradually, the wall and

Topic 15: Today is poet's choice day!! Write a poem inspired by whatever inspires you. Form : any Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com Song Somewhere between the notes that tremble in the throat of some cosmic guitar, in a far, fireborn galaxy with only one simple sun, a lifegiving aureole, where the whole of existence resonates with unified melody and the free stars blink to the backbeat of the most divine drum, I will hum my li

Topic 10: Write a "negative" poem or a poem that defines something or someone or yourself by what it or he or you are not (I am no friend of cats . . .) Form : any Line requirements: 8 lines or more Mythos I am no kind of saviour I have shorn my own Samson lock and served it up, silver-plattered, to a Bathsheban stand-in starlet waiting in wings of rotten traitor-bearing planks until, pirate-fashion, the hook spikes through necks bared to unremembered never, nev

Topic 04: Poems inspired by the French phrase "entre chien et loup" which is a phrase that loosely translate to "between a wolf and a dog" and is used to describe that time at twilight when it can be difficult to distinguish between a wolf and a dog or a situation when it is difficult to tell when something is benevolent or dangerous. Write a poem inspired by this. Form : any Line requirements: 8 lines or more Get involved for free at www.pigpenpoetry.com Man He is workin

TS Eliot smoked himself to death. At the end, he was more kipper than man, fit only for consumption by his own cats. They were – like the continuing and eternal success of poetry – to remain in his imagination. Lungs and poets have a poor relationship. For Shelley, that didact and dire romantic target of Eliot’s contempt, contemplation would have been more profitable were it of sea-legs rather than those without trunks. Even lovers cannot breathe the ocean. D