Quotes

‘It’s weird not to be weird’ 

John Lennon

Mystery

Female Circus Acrobat Balancing on Rope — Image by ©Bernd Vogel/Corbis

I was given the task of creating a poem based on the photo of two boys sitting on a hill: this is what I came up with

Upon a hill after the sun has set

The boys take a seat

It was a shock when their parents let them go

They’re curious as to what feat

The woman will do this time

Her strength causes gasps to ring out

There was nearly a accident when the mime

Got distracted by the lout

The boys love the circus

Distracting them from sadness

And letting them forget

Just for a night, the madness

Monologue

I did this monologue based on a picture of a rather confused looking older man, who was staring directly into the camera. My writing tutor Mollie, challenged us as a group to write a monologue inspired by the person, and this is what I came up with. 

The thing staring back at me, takes me aback. Darkness seeps into the heavy lines beneath my eyes, the passage of years I have not allowed myself to feel spilling effortlessly across my skin.

Fingers come up slowly, the person staring back, mimicking my tentative exploration of the neatly clipped beard covering my chin.

When did the chestnut I was so proud of, turn into this murky non descript grey?

Did no one think that I would notice? I know that they have been keeping some things back from me, the shadows that have kept me captive for the last thirty years, have enabled me to hear the unspoken words in the silence.

I reach further up, the edges of my fingernails clacking against plastic, and return them to the case.

I shouldn't have gone to Specsavers.

We are Family

   
  “We’ve got to write about our families for homework mum,” Sam said “How on earth am I going to describe our family?” he screwed up another piece of paper, throwing it onto the floor in his frustration. His gaze returned to the large portrait of his extended family that hung above the fireplace, landing on the faces of his mother and father right in the middle.
      His mother paused in the middle of chopping the carrots for dinner “What do you mean?” a quizzical expression crossed her tanned features. “You know how to describe us. We’re a nuclear upper middle class family,”
       “We’re not exactly average,” Sam laughed as the air in the corner of the kitchen started to shimmer, and his broad shouldered father materialised. His dad was still clad in the sky blue leather uniform of the Amour Federation.
         A small cut bled over his dad’s left eye but his face still lit up the instant that he saw his wife. “Honey are you okay?” concern glinted in Sam’s mother’s dark blue eyes as she scanned her husband from head to toe.
          James stepped closer, brushing one hand over her cheek, “I’m fine it was just a bit of a rough patrol,” he assured her, before reaching out to grab a piece of carrot.
          Marie slapped her husband’s hand “Wash your hands first,”
 copyright E.Morris 2016