Balancing on the tight rope 

Toes curled around a bamboo line

The stopwatch bleeps, the net has ceased 

Can I make it across this time? 


Butterflies descend from your lips

   Tears  masked with words of love.

Colourful wings distract innocent eyes,

   An insect flies above.

Dear President Trump

Dear President Trump……

Your triumph was unexpected, 

The public are confused. 

I’m just here to clarify, 

your will’s been misconstrued? 


You don’t believe in building walls? 

A separation of two nations?

History has taught us all, 

the possible complications. 


You don’t believe in identity cards,

for those of the Islamic faith? 

The yellow stars still haunt our past, 

Our futures must be safe. 

We know you aren’t really sexist, 

Feminists can be fussy. 

Women didn’t die for our rights 

For you to “grab them in the p***y.” 


A world of progression, 

Has thrived throughout the years,

We know you won’t reverse gay rights, 

And bring our land to tears. 


Left with you to do what’s right

I’m sure we all agree,

The uk is sat praying here,

“Thank God it’s them not me!” 


A few years ago I wrote a poem about the corruption and sexism in religion. It’s a little outdated and comes across quite “man hating” which wasn’t my intention at all. Anyway I’m going to share it with you and see what you think. 

As church bells ring throughout the night 

The people rest to rid their wrong, 

Virgin Mary soon be gone. 

Streets fill quickly if the poor, 

The priests arrive to pick their whore. 

The girls line up without a fight

Accepting their unfortunate fate,

Whilst men pick out their perfect mate. 

The conscience is smothered, 

The crosses are covered 

Jesus ‘turns his cheek’ tonight.


All the preachers return to church 

Crawling confessions on the morrow

plastered smiles to hide their sorrow

Priests pretend they are not men 

Blame the temptress once again. 


Excuses made to right their sin

An eye for an eye is quickly spoken 

Showing rules have not been broken. 

The women are blamed, 

The innocence framed. 

After all men are God’s true kin. 


The pink shoes smiled, 

A gap so wide, 

The laughter of the children 

Masks the hidden pain inside. 

The hugs, the care 

The attention is good 

A string of volunteers 

Give the love their mothers’ should.

Kindness is a virtue 

And kindness is shown 

A dedication of lives 

So that kindness is known. 

For happiness you don’t 

Need material possessions,

Just a positive attitude 

And a few life lessons. 

So share, and care 

Let your happiness grow.

See with your soul,

Use what you know. 

Succumb to that smile 

The wind in your hair, 

Because all world needs 

is someone to care! 

Not so fairy-story. 

Ok guys, so I’m writing an alternative Snow White story. In this version Snow White is a prostitute on cocaine (strange I know). Below is an extract of her encounter with Grumpy. Hope you like it! Let me know in the comments. Xx

It wasn’t her he hated. It was the impurity, the animal instinct that drove the fire in his belly. A fire only she could quench. He was married, a cheat. A diseased ridden, slimy cheat and he hated himself for it. He hated Snow for it. 

He took her all the same though. They always did in the end. As men grow their morals shrink and all of them want Snow before her bra hits the floor. 

Terrorism and the media

After the recent and tragic death of Jo Cox I feel that terrorism in the media is an important topic to discuss.

To begin with I would like you to read the definition of terrorism.  Terrorism is “The unofficial or unauthorized use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims.” I believe it is extremely important that we go by this definition and not the media’s often bias ideas.    

For example, daesh (aka Isis) are a terrorist organisation as they commit acts of violence with a political agenda. The media (and most people) will imagine daesh members first when thinking of a terrorist group. This is dangerous. Yes daesh are terrorists but by seeing them as the only terrorist group causes unnecessary racial and religious prejudice. 

This prejudice is encouraged by the media who are quick to post headlines about “Jihadi John” and other scary daesh figure heads. “Jihadi John” is a terrorist. He is not the only terrorist and daesh are not the only terrorist group. 

Going back to the tragic death of Jo Cox. This wonderful woman was killed by a white supremacist who was alleged to shout “Britain first” before killing her in the street. He admitted in court he target Jo for her beliefs on immigration. This incident is terrorism as it is an act of violence with a political aim. Did the media see it this way? Did the newspapers talk of the recent terror attack? No. They talked of a “mentally ill man” who “liked gardening.” How many times did the newspapers tell you Jihadi John loved football? Or was a fan of reading? They didn’t because it would be insane to try and counteract terrorism with statements of a killer’s ‘nice’ side. Yet this wasn’t the case for Jo Cox’s murderer. I  don’t disagree with the man’s illness (aren’t all terrorists mentally ill to commit the acts they do?) however the media’s approach was completely different than it would have been if the man was black and a member of daesh. 

These differences give people a false, often racially oriented view of Terrorism. Terrorism is not a black man with a turban and a gun, terrorism is groups of people who uses violence to gain power. These people come in all forms (the IRA, The KKK, American’s against abortion organisation and many more) and do not fit into any stereotypical terrorist image. 

So please remember, when you hear about terrorism remember what terrorism actually is and not what the media wants you to believe. 

Who cares? 

Who cares about the sleepless nights?

       Too afraid to dim the lights.       

    A babe who hears his parents row,  

    The child who lives with grandma now? 

Who cares about the stroppy teen?

Troubled by the things they’ve seen,        

 Out at midnight in the park,     

  Meeting those out after dark?               


Who cares about the local yob?  

   As theft becomes a full time job,         

 With the man she has to pay,  

 Wishing there was another way?

Who cares about the local bum?         

 Who dared to dream life could be fun,

Sick embedded down his shirt,   

 Takes more pills to numb the hurt?       


Who cares about the women dead?

 A dozen bullets in her head.     

Who stops and weeps for the pain,    

Of a victim with no name? 


Dragons hide behind the clouds,                                  Fire burns but but won’t linger,                Mother waits for wasps to sting her                    Pain is blaring all around.


Sister chose to take the boat,                             Couldn’t stand the fire burning,                          The waters will soon be turning                          Guess she chose she’d rather drown.


Brother hides behind his cot,                         Screeching like a wounded bird,                        The weakest member of our herd                          His face is molton in the flames.


Father joined the ones who bomb,                   Through pills and guns he fled,                         Better  now that he is dead                                Mother stands alone.


Brother’s cries are over,                                        Mothers heart is still.                                                I clasp my hands and purse my lips,                And wait for the flames to kill.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: