WANT TO FORGET HOW TO REMEMBER WITH YOU

By Zahrah Surooprajally   The one thing I want to do is forget. All the shit the other guys put me through. You’re different. I love watching the sun set with you. I don’t get bored. Get stuck like glue. The rainy days in - we snuggle and fight. We’re so different, but our souls … Continue reading WANT TO FORGET HOW TO REMEMBER WITH YOU

LEAKE STREET TUNNEL

By LJ Cadogan   my skin no better than a graffiti stained wall from where you tagged your name over and over and over until every brick was covered in your signature mauve spray-paint you only ever tagged me after sunset. like all illegitimate things, I was a secret held in the flap of gum … Continue reading LEAKE STREET TUNNEL

CIRCULATION

By Benjamin Corry Wright Kootbaully   I take a step from off the deck and in To night; a heady lift of air, to steep The week.   As light subsides, lungs open wide, Exhaustion, engines, fall behind. The grounds will rise at lower tides, Unlatch the filters - serve the night.   My breath … Continue reading CIRCULATION

EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

By Sophie Raphael   The lights turn off and my existential crisis begins. I am a lie and a figment of my own imagination, Caught between who I want to be and who I’m settling to become. I chop, re-design and change. Should I be allowed to dream, to believe, to feel? Fear of failure, … Continue reading EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

VOICES AFTER THE CITY LIGHTS

By Dele Oladeji   I fell apart, not to fall ever again. Flickering like a lone star. Voices, I hear. I wove myself out of darkness, My cataract infected eyes twitched. I looked through the window, Murky smell of thick air oozed. This is the East End- When the leaders see our faces They see … Continue reading VOICES AFTER THE CITY LIGHTS

LOVED BY LONDON AFTER DARK

By Sophie Bowles   Because I only have friends who do madnesses unto themselves and never go out on Saturday night, only out to the offy, bed & back to hide behind the pillow with the strops and socks while everyone else laughs and dances away, or robbing the bookies, I watch the scenes alone,laughter, … Continue reading LOVED BY LONDON AFTER DARK

LONDON

By Morghan Nunn-Menson It was all cast In colourless tones, And an air Of crossed eyes Weighed down The streets Like a military parade.   The birds I heard, But rarely did I see. So much life, Yet so little.   What united us, It seems, Were our guarded hopes And sacred dreams And the … Continue reading LONDON

DEADBEAT DARKNESS

By Sajidah Iqbal   His soul shrouded in a dismal, dreary darkness, Bereft of as much as, a tiny tinsel of brightness. He is destitute of words and deficient in life, Devoid of any luck and depleted in pride. Blitz, bombs, burns, rifles, tanks, devastation, His life upside down, like some frenzied fiction.   He … Continue reading DEADBEAT DARKNESS

FALLING ASLEEP ON THE THAMES

By Rachele Salvini My grandfather had a little boat, where we sailed until our salted skin got burnt. His hands were fast, spotless and young as he talked, gripping the ship’s wheel.   He told me about squids and moray eels. We had no canals, but we had Fossi which literally means moats. Trenches. Green, … Continue reading FALLING ASLEEP ON THE THAMES

NIGHT VISIONS

By Zoe Maynard White lights speed past my body. Screeching screams escape from the track, the doors fly open. No hustling and bustling like in rush hour mayhem, the carriage has a scrunched up newspaper to keep me company. Outside the station, the eye watches me as she turns full circle. Without blinking, she watches … Continue reading NIGHT VISIONS

WAR WORDS

By: myTh the Poet Arm The Arsenal If my pen is mightier than the sword Then I shall be a mighty creature in folklore. Serving hoards from moors, Disarming them without chain-metal and gore. *** Chain Reaction I tread in the vacant and remote. I'll descend through the depths of hell, Patient yet betrothed. Given … Continue reading WAR WORDS

TIME

By: Amanda Hein   Thousands and thousands of books. Hundreds and hundreds of stories. Centuries, decades and years, Cities, maps and streets. Mothers and children, Dates and graves. Names, ink, Time. Time. Ink, screens, Graves and photos. Children and television, Streets, satellites, and google. Years, minutes and ancestry.com. Hundreds and hundreds of timelines. Thousands and … Continue reading TIME

OUTSIDER

Poem + Photo By: LaAerial in a corner out of sight eyes wide open fear of flight she holds her breath and waits in vain for someone else to know her name all seems lost as time suspends until she hears a voice within act this moment wait no longer what you’ve been through made … Continue reading OUTSIDER

FREE DIVING

By: Gillian Horsley   Marionettes of shadow and light from which a single string hangs; a rope that guides my tactile sight, hunger for adventure pangs. Another world on Earth in blurry tech-ni-colour; my underwater birth, light fades, colour becomes duller. A crux to rely on vision, a species designed with precision; more natural than … Continue reading FREE DIVING

HELLISH DELIGHT

By: Hammama Issa   Every morning after breakfast you always savoured your coffee, One cup was all you needed to see you through the day, ‘You shouldn't be out alone,’ I heard, A dark, murky lake outstretched before me - still and lifeless, The faint cigarette smell that lingered on your clothes, Faint boomerang scars … Continue reading HELLISH DELIGHT

SOCIAL BEINGS

By: Sagal Haji   They say that humans are social beings But I can't seem to conceptualise The way we have to socialise Vain talk and vapidity Are thrust upon us As if it isn't toxic To our hearts Our minds Searching for authenticity In world filled with dishonesty     I feel out of … Continue reading SOCIAL BEINGS

THE MAN BENEATH THE BRIDGE

By: Abbie Dunn   There is a man who lives beneath a grey, decaying bridge. Of all the days I passed beneath this bridge, always in a rush, I had not once thought to take notice of him. Until one day, when the man beneath the bridge was gone.   I recall walking at my … Continue reading THE MAN BENEATH THE BRIDGE

WOMAN OF DUST

By Yasmin Rahim Gathering along the sill At dusk Collecting Like fibres of dust Falling, floating silently My figure wrapped In a blanket Of dust My being comes and goes Swells and disperses Swept away, by a soft blow Like dust The city is roaring Outside my window Yet I am here Aggravating dust Silent, … Continue reading WOMAN OF DUST

Delicacy

by Liv Monaghan - 'I ate but boiled egg brown sandwiches. From the Sainsbury’s at the end of the line of red bricks. Because I was sick with sorrow'

A London Restaurant and You

by Mary Gregson - 'You hate to admit that the food is nice, Then your drinks arrive, Your opinion is rising, Then you remember you’re scared of the price, That soon the bill is impending.'

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