I’ve finished. My chapbook of poetry, Desert Flowers, is complete! I worked so hard on this and spent ages deliberating on everything from the card and paper I used and the thread to bind it, the front cover and of course the poems inside.
I’m super nervous for people to actually read my poems but it feels pretty damn good to have my name in print! If you would like to buy one I’d be eternally grateful, they are £5 a copy and here is a link to my etsy shop where you can buy it!
I fell in love with the colour of your blood mixed with mine — a deep garnet red — almost black except when you looked at it in the light streaming through the broken glass window that I smashed aching for your attention.
We own the biggest knives you’ve ever seen and I nail razor blades to the door handles to stop you leaving and
our welcome mat says love — inside a pretty little heart like the ones i draw all over your chest when you’re sleeping — while the kitchen tiles are splattered with the inside of my stomach and the smears of your attempts to clean me all up.
i stitch up soft palate — ruptured from all those words I couldn’t say while my twitching aorta artery pumps in the syllables of your name. I have always been a crime scene, but with you — It’s all so much more
–G.M Stone (Psycho Cinderella) February 3rd, 2017.
If you liked this rather violent but romantic poem, stay on the look out for my pamphlet/chapbook of poetry that I’ll be bringing out in May!
When I was at college studying English Literature, we were tasked with writing an essay arguing for the inclusion of a piece of literature, song or poem to be included in the literary canon. The western literary canon is a rather outdated collection of literature, music and art that scholars accept as the most important and influential when it comes to shaping western culture. Of course the canon is seen by most people as widely restrictive and noninclusive of work by authors and artists from different racial backgrounds and genders, as most of it’s included works have been created by white, European men (but really, what did you expect?)
My time at college was also the time where I really developed my love for hip hop and rap music. As a white girl who grew up on her Dad’s punk rock music, and her Mum’s eclectic mix of 80’s pop and Elvis, rap music was rather unknown territory for me back then. Around this time I had discovered a lot of rap artists, but my favorite had soon proved to be Jay-Z, arguably one of the most well known hip hop/rap artists since the 90’s when he first emerged onto the scene. Getting tasked with this essay at the time I was becoming obsessed with rap music was really a great way to explore and learn about the history of rap, how it came to be, and why I had suddenly fallen in love with it. I decided to do my essay about Jay-Z and his music, the meat of my argument being that rap music was poetry in another form and highly influential to a huge group of people.
For Christmas, I just wanted to share some of the beautiful poetry books I received from my family. Of course I asked for more books and DVD’s to add to my piles of them already in my room. One day my ceiling might actually collapse from all the books I have up there…
The three books I was most excited for were the poetry books I asked for, Bone, written by Yrsa Daley Ward,Nejma, written by Nayyirah Waheed, and Home, written by Clementine Von Radicks.
I feel like I haven’t written a blog post in a while. I haven’t written anything in a while, hell, I haven’t even watched a film since Gone Girl.
I’m in a strange limbo, a mood I often get in sometimes, which usually disappears as often as they come. So for now I am waiting it out, but in the meantime, there is a cause for celebration! It is Sylvia Plath’s birthday, (27th of October, 1932) and it’s no secret she is someone I admire and hold to high regard.
“The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.”