“You are a little soul carrying about a corpse, as Epictetus used to say.” ― Marcus Aurelius

Good news obscure poetry fans – I have another #TBT treat for you!

I can’t take all the credit for this one, it was the combined effort of myself and several school friends – the result of one of many days spent the days lurking in the sixth form study room (we were far too unpopular to think of straying into the so called ‘common’ room). I had been set the task of writing a sonnet for an English literature task, and implored upon my school friends to help me.

Ode to a rotting corpse emily_of_corpse_bride_by_starreyley94-d3krr5b

Shall I compare thee to a rotting corpse?
Thou art more gruesome and more horrid yet,
The one for whom the maggots use their sporks
To eat up all the rotting flesh they get.
Sometimes I want to tear your eyeballs out
And often I succeed in doing this,
And all the time I wish that you had gout
By summer you will smell like rotting fish.
But that will not redeem your horrid life.
Nor make your presence any less morbid.
Nor will you ever learn to play the fife,
While rancid lips remain so, so sordid.
As long as there is flesh still on your bones,
I hope to always hear your corpsey moans.

I am beginning to get the impression that I was a strange child…

“All glory comes from daring to begin.” ― Ruskin Bond

Throwback Thursday.

I don’t normally opt into the whole #TBT thing, but this just seemed to perfect to pass up!

I recently came across an old book while unpacking one of the many forgotten boxes of my belongings which occupy our storage room.


Those of you who live in East Anglia might be familiar with this little gem. This book was published by the group Young Writers, an organisation which runs competitions at primary schools for children to submit poetry and the like. The lucky winners have their work published in a book which is available to buy direct from the organisation.

This edition, from 2000, which no doubt once had pride of place on my parents’ book shelf, includes a poem written by me at the tender age of ten.

Warning: Contains scenes which some may find distressing.

The Prince of Darkness
Black cat snoozing in the sunlight,
You are the prince of darkness,
Coat like charcoal as black as night.
Your eyes are like two red hot embers,
Shining in the darkness.
Your call is like a lion’s roar echoing in
My mind.
You flick your tail to and fro to warn
Off unwanted predators.
Your teeth are like sharpened rows of
Sharpened daggers, sinking into the
Innocent flesh of poor helpless mice.
You prowl the forest all night long
Searching for your midnight snack.

Ominous isn’t it? I especially like the repetition of the word ‘sharpened’, it really emphasises the sharpness of that cat’s teeth.