Well, I was right about one thing. Taking a creative writing course has encouraged me to write much more than before - not just because I have assessment, but more I think that now I feel entitled to think of myself as a writer. In a strange way it helps. Anyway. Exerpts from the latest collection: unpolished and unfinished, the real, raw deal. As always, would love to hear comments :D.

Lecture

everything is stark
a hundred faces stare
silently numb in the darkness

pristine, a woman speaks
tight curls, sharp voice
she drones
and they pretend to listen

though all around them is white
and their colours are muted before the giant screen
inside they buzz
a million things occurring to them
all at once
none about the woman
the film
or the money they paid
absentmindedly
simply to be here
elite
in the almost night
appearing to sleep.

Consequences

you have trespassed into my heart
crossed the invisible borders and set up camp

you are making your mark
and i feel every hesitant footstep
every silent breath

i wanted you to stay
but not like this.

abandoned

weeds entangle my legs
they seek human comfort
presence that is missing

old boards creak slowly
aching like bones
chilled from a winter dawn

harsh light hits the tattered, untouched curtains
and inside my footsteps remain
embedded in the fragile death that
cloaks every surface,
lightly

nothing and everything has ceased
even breathing here is laboured
it is the home of the forgotten
the departed
embrace of the silent and still