Poetry – Stories, University Kitchen and The F Word

As a student of creative writing, I take a module in poetry writing. I’m currently working on my second portfolio of work, but I realised that I haven’t really released any work on here for you to read. Some of my favourites I’m unable to put up, because they are currently being considered for an anthology to be released in April, but I have a few that aren’t, that I am still incredibly proud of. These three poems below aren’t following any theme but they reflect different styles of poetry that I am fond of. Stories focusses on relationships and the feelings of new love, University Kitchen focusses on the sounds of words revolving around the washing up situation in university, and The F-Word is an exploration of the overuse of the the swear word. Hopefully you enjoy and please feel free to leave comments or constructive criticisms. 


You have a smile to light up a thousand rooms,

But you like the fairy lights to light up mine.

There’s a tenderness in your touch,

Tracing my back

Like a plotline on a page,

Your soft sounds

The dialogue,

Our Small kisses,

The punctuation.

You cross mountains on chests

And rivers in valleys between thighs,

Following our story until our plotlines

Intertwine like our fingers.

We lay back together on clouds

As the fairy lights turn into stars behind closed lids,

We are blissful,

We are blinded by tender touches;

We are my current favourite story.

University Kitchen

The clattering of cutlery on half cleaned plates

From breakfast,

Stains like halos linger the undersides of bowls

Whilst water drips



Into empty glasses

Filling them for someone who’s not here yet.

 I am lost in a mountain of milk bottles,

Searching through seas of uneaten cereal,

And dangerously stacked plates

To find a teaspoon.

The F-word (Not for the faint hearted)

I fucking hate how much I fucking swear,

Oh for fucks sake…


 Fuck doesn’t sound so fucking fun

When you say it all the fucking time

It sounds aggressive

Like you’re fucking around with where

You can put the fucking word.

 But you taught me

everything’s so much more fucking fun with fuck

You can say fuck a duck

tell someone to fuck off

Or to fuck you

And you can scream fuck at the top of your lungs

As they fuck you into their bed and then fucking leave you

Because that’s all they fucking wanted.

 I hate how much I fucking swear

Because saying fuck reminds me of fucking you and

God was that a fucking mistake.


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