Philippa Bowe

Oh no, hope she's okay. I don't know any women who haven't been affected in some way, and usually starts when you're a child...

Ha! Jumping the gun my friend....we'll see what happens next Sunday. 😆🤞

What a lovely lovely piece Dawn, the joy and thrill of new life! ✨

Love love love this piece, you multi-talented (and modest) person you! 🤩💜

Siri as Mother Were you hoping for a myth?

Today's #LiftToTheSky: this poem by Hala Alyan, 'I’ve begun creating a series of pieces calling upon mothering and care as consolation for the larger ways that we feel societally and communally bereft and unattended to.'
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

poets.org/poem/siri-mo...

Love these - surreal and noir, perfect mix! 💫

Arrows You watch me undress even though you can’t really see me because my body is a ruin and I have vanished under the rubble. I am writhing under your eyes which might as well be crosshairs, palpitating in this animal carcass that takes up too much space. Bits and pieces of me scatter everywhere like dead skin cells or eyelashes, tiny insignificant things you can wish on but that never come true. This is how I mark my territory, in chewed off fingernails and stray hair bands, careless words and stuttered apologies, sacred beads of spit and blood. This is where I have come to love and to haunt. This is where I will raise a little church. But you can’t really see me now because I’ve gone inside to pray. I am building nests on branches that can’t hold me. And my spine curves like the bent neck of a deer bowing before the hunter’s gun. Like it is trying to tell you something secret. Like it wants to bridge an enormous gap. You only come to watch me unravel so you can hide in the cracks. I am but a bird in the palm of your hand. Just one little twist of your fingers to break its brittle bones. You will only really see me once you dare to lift off the burial shroud and find out that the crumpled cerecloth once upon a time was a wing.

Late but here is my submission for #PoemsAbout #BeingWatched ✨

for @thebrokenspine.co.uk
& @alanparrywriter.co.uk

'Cyanide sweetness' is such a fabulous image! 🌟

Yup! That's what came and I decided not to shy away from it....

Thanks Merril! 🙏

Okay so what's a worm moon? And I'm a big lucid dream person. I also have dreams that carry for a while once I'm awake, quite mad! 😆

...try Only Poems to start with maybe? And yes rejection is so hard. I think it's good to remember it's always a lottery and that just being brave enough to put your work out there is a big big achievement. 🌟

Wow what a breath-taking poem!! So so rich, impossible to pick out a favourite image, they are too many stunners! I felt a sensation of finding strength in the face of an oppressive force. Agree with the others about submitting it: there are tons of excellent journals out there....

Oh Beth I'm so sorry you're having to deal with this fucker. And glad you can convey it in poetry. 🙏

Compelling as ever John, even though I find it hard to read about the kill no matter how ´natural'! I really like the journey from a picture of the outdoor world to the inside of the narrator's head, the lucid dream. 🌟

Black box with a poem in white writing: watched get your fucking eyes off me – or I’ll tear them out

This week's #PoemsAbout prompt, #BeingWatched, was pretty triggering for me - think it shows in my response.
Happy Friday poets! 💜
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

Yeees! That last line is, sadly, such a perfect description of today's digital world... 🙁💫

Oh Merril, I'm so sorry you've lost your sister. What a beautiful poem you have written while thinking of her. 💜

Thank you Merril! Repetition can be such a instrument of musicality, right? 🙏

Ooh I'd love to read some of it! The very first thing I ever had published was an article on that second summer of love/London acid house scene (1988 I think) in a minor newspaper in Sydney where I spent a few months...🙂

So many striking images here! I particularly enjoyed the conversation at the very end, hope and despair in the face of the unmovable stone. 💫

Agree about poem Friday. And what a wonderfully powerful and dark piece, that killer last line! 💫

Painting: an abstract watercolor, painted in a loosely round composition, suggestive of a winter landscape; palette includes sepia, Payne’s grey, and other colors

Quiet Season ~ #BlueSkyArtShow #round #eastcoastkin #abstract #abstractpainting #Abstractwatercolor #abstractlandscape #Landscapepainting #Traditionalart #fineart #watercolor #intuitivepainting #painting

Thanks Jan - I seem to often write stuff these days drawing on the clubbing years, no idea why! 😆🙏

You're so welcome!

Ah thanks John, hope they didn't keep you awake! 🙏

Photo of the inside of a nightclub with people's dancing hands silhouetted holding drink and cigarettes. Overlaid with a poem in orange letters: nightlife I lie on the pavement no spirit left to me I left it all – in the dark where the light drips off the glitter ball in the furnace of weekend bodies heat-seeking parts in the thud of relentlessly irresistible beats I gave it my all I shed I moved and shook and ground consumed every bit drunk to the dregs of the night – and here I am spent and here I am stupid and happy

Love ending a crazy busy week with a nice little #PoemsAbout hookup. And enjoyed the #Spent prompt. Happy Friday/weekend poets! 💜
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

This is so sweet and sad and a lovely evocation of that moment when age meets youth, lovely! 💫

Love this sunrise personification so much! 💫

Spiral Haze I remember The reasons I Could dismember My heart but I.... didn't.... I spent all... My own downfall— Heart cannot call Upon itself...to calm down... I spent my days Ruminating the what mays, I splattered paint Though I'm no saint... I can't forgive... My nodes and anodes Could connect the dots And find what bodes ... in me For someone like me Doesn't have much to be— An anomaly.... I'm too weak, splatter Myself and spend my days Regretting things... As though I'm reaching for something to say that I'm pure....

My entry for #PoemsAbout #Spent

The aftermath of regret...

@thebrokenspine.co.uk
@alanparrywriter.co.uk

#poetry