Poetry

Lilting Legs

I remember a lot of things that happened to me on the school playground. I once fell over, cut my knee and was told to get up and stop blubbering. I cried more, naturally.

Remembering a Golden Summer

This is a poem about youth, wasted time, sunshine and happiness.

Antigone

This was written when I was preparing to play Antigone in the modernised play by Jean Anouille. It's pretty sad to read now considering that the play never went ahead in the end.

Vanessa

Vanessa is a girl I know who is absolute bliss to share a bed with.

Gina

I wrote this while looking after a set of two-year-old twins for a week, I couldn't get over how beautiful the little girl was, even if she was hell to look after.

The Other Option

This is hopefully a not too pretentious indication of sexism still being very alive today, especially amongst teenagers, and how frustration has some girls considering a different kind of relationship.

You Lost Me

This is a poem about someone I once knew, who was a mentor to me in a way, before it all got a bit complicated.

Good-time Bertha rules - OK!

This should be self-explanatory; just imagine that the title is scrawled graffitti on an underpass.
Computer conversational prosthetic memory machines already exist in prototype. The future is already on our doorsteps.

Words are a Weapon

This is a collection of free prose poetry from my budding blog "words are a weapon - a blog by chris leech".

The poetry is mostly observational and descriptive work. I use a lot of metaphors in my writings but basically I just think of something and start writing until it reaches a suitable and closing end. I like to look back at my poetry afterwards and enjoy it, throw new meaning at it, and be inspired by it. I hope others will feel the same.

Words are a Weapon

This is a collection of free prose poetry from my budding blog "words are a weapon - a blog by chris leech".

The poetry is mostly observational and descriptive work. I use a lot of metaphors in my writings but basically I just think of something and start writing until it reaches a suitable and closing end. I like to look back at my poetry afterwards and enjoy it, throw new meaning at it, and be inspired by it. I hope others will feel the same.

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