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Blog spring

Lovesong for Spring

I wrote this sonnet in 2014 as part of a Year 9 class assignment. 7 years onwards, I still enjoy what I wrote – and in a way, this connects our February and March themes! I think it's healthy to let yourself be moved by your own work, and to appreciate the unique and personal memories of the process... I remember how I was inspired by the rhythm of Alexander Pope's Eloisa to Abelard, after watching the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
Photo by Joel Holland on Unsplash

Lovesong for Spring

For season that gives bless’ed days in light,
Your comely looks will ever leave the shore;
For you a snowdrop land out for delight,
I wait and yearn for honeyed sound: amour.
Oh budding youth and binding honest smells,
No bird nor figure did evoke my mind;
Your sweet, your caprice tale in spring we tell,
Your dream of slumber wrote for me designed.
For you bloom lily, iris, rose with charm,
That dance, that laugh and soothe red eyes so sore;
So arrows cushion frays within your arms!
Complete devotion of my heart to yours.
By you my lonely heart shall be adored,
Go onwards, so our journey upwards soars.

Karen is a journalist and poet who loves music and photography. She is a third year student at King’s College London, and the Editor in Chief of The King’s Poet. In her second year, she also led King’s literary and poetry societies. Among other publications, her writing is published in Apple Daily, Roar News and Have You Eaten Yet?.
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Anita's Digest

Dust

Photo by Austin Ban on Unsplash

I heard a rumour that April was the cruelest month
Perhaps we mistake its love for dust
And its hugs for must
That envelops my skin
Cluttering what I think
As spring makes an early promise
I step out each day
As care
Towards my present
Particles of dust
Participants along my walk
Help me with a study of the past

My eyes itch
But early bloom lets me see a future
Filled with see you soons

Anita is a writer of all sorts. She has a background in Sociology and Gender Studies. Her main creative pursuits include poetry, short fiction, and articles on social and cultural topics. She often likes to play with the boundaries of fiction and non-fiction, exploring the liminal spaces between these styles. She’ll be updating this column weekly, with fresh, topical discussions about what’s on her mind. Stay tuned!
Categories
Blog

Journey of Self-Love

Whispered words of stripped timber,
Chanted like a spell under hot breaths,
Like a song hurried through and felt.
Quiet storm, do I want thee?
Do I want to be,
To be degraded as if in acid rain,
To be a reduced solution,
Part of it finally,
My affects wiped away,
Like paint chips journeying down the drain,
Accompanied only by a swelling of circumstance.

Perhaps it is good to be reduced,
Be forced towards childishness,
To have to inhabit a time,
When dreams were boundless,
And outside of reason,
A time before the weight of the appropriate and the likely.
Perhaps it is a needed antidote,
To the certainty and uncertainty of creeping adulthood,
Perhaps we should not grow up all at once,
But only in the useful branches,
And stay young and budding in a few varieties of ourselves.

And then I spy a hole,
Between here and my vibrancy.
For just a moment,
I can be excited, passionate, loud,
And I can see why and how, 
I can be all those things and more.
I have found that place,
Where I do not worry or weep,
For things I believe I am missing,
I do not get stuck in notions of futures,
Of missteps and inaction,
I am living in action,
And am free of the weight,
That before I let crush me on this side of the wall.

Amy originally studied Archaeology but has just finished a Masters in Social Anthropology at Edinburgh. She is back in London now, where she’s from, and currently works part-time as an editor for a publisher. She loves to travel and write, and has a blog where she shares her articles and poetry called dlohere. She is also trying to learn Italian!
Categories
Blog

‘Christmas is…’

Our final Assemblage meeting of the year was full of festivities and we made this very speedy collaborative poem about our feelings surrounding Christmas time.

It brought up tradition as well as trepidation surrounding Christmas occurring in these strange times. Some of us reflected on the nostalgia surrounding the end of the year, others on familiarity and homeliness. We’d love to know what you think!

Categories
artist response

Artist response: ‘NHS vs Covid-19’ by the Singh Twins

‘NHS v Covid-19:Fighting on Two Fronts’ by the Singh Twins

Plucked from the tapestry,
Of our happily forgotten past,
A golden dragon prospers.
With arms of steel and armour of plastic,
They press their pointed brow forwards alone.
They bare the brands,
We gave them,
And keep burning,
Into them,
With masked glory,
And in return we get,
The splendour,
Of culture and unending perseverance.
We can clap the studies away,
Until our eyes are happily,
Blind with gratitude,
And they will still save us,
Quietly,
Colourfully,
And at their own risk.
But we will exalt our hands,
To bloodied stumps,
Before we act with fairness,
And then they will lick our wounds,
Once more.

By Amy Spaughton