While we don't usually publish children's writing, Luka's mum, Sally, got in touch with this poem which we thought was fantastic. Luka's poem is about what it feels like to be Black. https://videopress.com/v/j8AMnGb5?preloadContent=metadata Here and there everywhereBut I’m invisibleI’m invisibleHappy, sad; angry, madBut I’m invisibleI’m invisibleView the world, just once like meAnd then you’ll see… Continue reading Invisible by Luka (Aged 9) | Black History Month Celebration
‘Black and British’ should not be a thing,It should be you, me, him, her, them and they,But people look to your colour and country for your story,And assume they realise your inner glory. It is why some people call me the other black girl’s name,I shake my head and correct them nicely but they do… Continue reading ‘Black and British’? by Dayna Francis | Black History Month Celebration
to Alexandra They started whirling the rumour I was a MonsterHad been swimming around me till I drank it As it washed away the sea flowers in meI became the Monster Couldn’t lie on the rock among the othersNor in the silvery foam Anticipation drowned:You wouldn’t get to me, trapped in the continuous storms of… Continue reading Siren by Serena Piccoli
We are unsleeping. Pick-axe eyes,plastered rheumy,bore into ceilings,furthereach passing of night."Awaken": unsure,did sleep ever find us, legs celtic knotted,tendrils of hair veiling my vision -or has this Witching hourtaken captives of us? In moments eyelids kiss,we apple-bob into unconsciousness, return with secondsora lucky minuteof hazed half rest, cruelfalse prophecies of dreamsnever to come. Traitor legs… Continue reading fever dreams of an insomniac, lying next to you by Aidan Harvey
The picture hanging on a wall, reminiscing timeless moments of a past. Memories are immortal unlike us, stay longer with us than humans do. The picture illustrating everlasting treasures of life, pushing us into cherishing them unless we are alive. Manifests splendid time we've had together. People may come and go, nevertheless what remains perpetual… Continue reading Impeccable Picture by Himanshu Singh
Clueless we soar lighting up the virgin corners of the dark Scoring our names into the sky We rock the earth with our moans and hiss bachelor delights of childhood, untethered Fizzing history through a single night of wild misbehaviour we are eels, we are glorious we are coming for your feet and we are… Continue reading Fireworks by Darcy Isla
run through the fields that kept your nostalgia quiet, grasp in handfuls the flowers you’ll never have at your wedding; blue delphinium and allium, the colours of your honesty, trodden and blue. let the wind whip at your face and pretend you are at the sea side, take two-parts switchblade tide to one-part rough grain… Continue reading Creepers pt. 5 by Natalie Caulwell
Some take their sheep as offerings watch the blood run from the peak like candle wax some lay flat on its soft turf feel the wind pass over them like the belly of a freezing train Follow Summer on Twitter at @MissYoungWriter and on Instagram at @summerrbelle.
She has left you again, and like a television left on standby, I am ready to be turned on, I am ready to turn you on. You shift your body weight against me. The lights turn off and everything is dark, save for your skin, translucent quartz. The horror film makes your femur quiver. I… Continue reading when you pretend your feelings don’t matter, you erase yourself. by Oscar Stirling Payne
Women who are others because there isn’t another Women who are others meet at street corners on gazpacho soup nights and think of their own bed made up like undisturbed snow Women who are others read breakfast pastries on the tube home, thinking about how they’d rearrange themselves if they were a cherry filled doughnut… Continue reading The others by Sophia Georghiou
