Teenage

The sky is grey

July is well underway

The grass soft to the touch

The wind blows lightly

I am at peace

Birdsong all around

An escape from reality

A world of chaos

Constantly changing

Evolving

I lay

In the natural world’s embrace

But despite the nature all around

The distant sounds of man’s creations are forever present

For the modern world is always here

Forever looming over nature

Even as I stare at nature’s beauty

The sound of cars stays forever present

As nature fades

To the background

It swept a storm of contempt
Falsehood and cowardice were a façade,
The time had come when she ought to afflict
A wound upon those unaffected.
They were the dazzling stars
And she was the loathed cloud.
But she had lost all reason
As black had crept into her heart.

Dickinson
So hard
working and determined
So soft
gentle and kind
So fast
he always wins the race
We always have him in mind

The waking sky
a glassy cerulean sea adorned
by wisps
of perfect white with splashes
of dancing pink flashes,
the cherry blossoms of spring
Shift over; no lives
lost but
new purpose found in a tired mother-to-be
new life whispered into a tiny heart
like a blooming mum in a dewy, fresh field

I delivered his golden soul last night,
Like Hermes of Olympia
He’s a premature rainbow, a fighter
She held her singing gift close,
safe until
I took him to the LNU.
The next rotation’ll send them home
preened and gift-wrapped

I can leave now. No?

My pager blares ‘LNU. 2222’
Then it was cold. Dark.
My talaria urge
me to his side.
Compressions.

1…
I’m losing him.

2…
O God

3…
ECG flatlined

But I push on
in vain with
hope.
That he’d cry, scream, thrash about.
Hope stained by bitter silence.

I want to cry, scream, thrash about but
no. Compose yourself.
I must repossess her little rainbow, take
that small chorus back
to Olympia.

Have you
crushed
a mother’s spirit
with an unwavering voice?
Told her that her little fighter now resides
among wisps of white? And hoped
that she’d cry, scream, thrash about.
Hope stained by bitter silence.

I guide her weary feet
to bed. And stay,
by her side
Wordless.
Till a new chorus, birdsong, chimed.

A hoarse ‘Thank you for trying. I would’ve –
joined him, but
your solace saved me.’

I can leave now. But this shift
is never fully
over

Winter is cold weather
We should make a snowman
Make a campfire
Roast marshmallows
Have a hot chocolate
We should wear our scarf
hat and gloves
coat and boots

I am not a vibrant ocean blue
nor as pink as the sunset sky

I am not the daughter that you watched grow
nor will I ever be a guy

I am not anything you said I’d be
Instead,
I am simply me.

But society doesn’t see it that way,
The rules are that you have to be either a boy or girl,
straight or gay.
But that’s not me,
that won’t ever be me.

I look at myself in the mirror,
and all  want is to cry
because I don’t see myself.

I’ve lived so long
being told I was pink
but I’ve always come to realise
I’ve never seen that colour
within myself.

Because in my life,
I’m not a boy nor a girl
I’m not gay nor straight
I’m simply just Harper,
My body may say different.
But I know what I am,
I’m human.
Even if I use they/them pronouns.

I’m just free

Choices are difficult to make,
cuz there are disappointments in each way.
But what matters is that you face them,
like a soldier in a war, like a diamond between gems.
Choices are made by us without knowing,
and that’s what makes us different from other beings.

Choices hold the power to define you,
BEWARE! they can even destroy you.

It’s a mystery how life works,
some say it’s luck ,others say it’s the circle of karma.
Well I don’t know what’s true,
but I do think it’s all about us,
we choose our fate without knowing,
and that’s what makes our life different from other beings.

Sing little bird,
Sing the night away.
Little do you know,
that you can’t the next day.

Hurry little bird,
Hurry and pack your belongings.
Take your necessities,
and listen to their warnings.

Run little bird
Run for your life,
Can’t carry your birdsong with you,
If you want to survive.

Keep going little bird,
Keep going though you’re tired.
I know you can do it,
Just a few more miles.

Silence little bird,
Silence is key,
We hide here,
So no-one can find you and me.

Hush little bird,
Hush, don’t be afraid,
For it is situations such as this,
where character is made.

Bang little bird,
Bang goes a gun.
But don’t worry ,little bird,
we’ll soon see the sun.

Sorry little bird,
Sorry you’ve lost your birdsong.
Sorry that I was caught,
and that I couldn’t stay very long.

This is the end little bird,
This is the end for you.
I’m sorry about your birdsong,
and sorry I didn’t get to save you…

(for context, this poem is written from the perspective of a parent trying to survive a war with their young child which they call ‘little bird’ however unfortunately neither of them survived. It’s almost an apology to the young child about what happened and the fact that the parent was unfortunately already killed before they could save their ‘little bird’)

Oily Ollie offers old oranges,
Posh Poppy plants plump peas,
Anxious Adam ate an angry ant,
Horrid Holly hates happy hippos,
Juggler George judges jungle jokes.

New and improved version

Their name is Romans
They believed in omens
They had weird surnames,
names like Bowman

They loved fighting wars
legionary, principals
They had some ranks
lower class, upper class, yeoman

They had gruesome punishments
from burns to drowning!
I love Romans
They are so much fun