Demolitions

A house on my street was demolished, which made me sad... so I wrote about it.

The bucket scrapes across the rafters.
Hydraulic arms sift through memories.
Destroying them.
Tearing the tendons of this fragile abode.
Births, deaths, marriages of true minds.
All have taken place within
These walls, and yet
Brash companies kill.

They see not the secret souls hiding in the nooks
Or the memories tucked into hidden crannies
Seeing only a plot 'too large' for the house, they blindly
Raze to the floor
What has taken years to cultivate.
Years of cherishment.
Years of care.

Broken.
Crushed.
Demolished.

On a related note, I just listened to this Freakonomics podcast about how the Japanese tend to consider their homes as disposable.

In The Black Oblivion

This was written as part of a first-lines exercise - I was given the first line and then set free... and this is what I came up with.

In the black oblivion
Does the hurricane roar
Rushing through towns, cities
Leaving them razed to the floor.
Pinpricks of life still exist, though
Sheltering under rafters
Trying to salvage life-long dreams
Of 'Happily Ever Afters'

I Want To Go Back

I wrote this in Year 11, when there was some serious drama among my group of friends... the sentiments still hold true.

I want to go back to those days
When arguments never really mattered.
And though you'd, crossly, part ways
The next day that anger shattered.

I want to go back to that life
When friendships all fell into place
And when the biggest possible strife
Was an insult about someone's face.

Friendships now are all so complicated;
The gossip spreads like fire.
Who's done what, who's being hated,
Who's given into their heart's desire.

And all this pointless chatter does
Is turn differences into triggers of guns
There can be little worse than seeing a room abuzz
And thinking 'What have I done?!'

Lesson One of Warfare | Poem

I wrote this for Bath Impact, my university's student newspaper. The theme of the issue was 'Vanity' and it was originally published on Monday, February 24th, 2014.

"Rule one: be prepared"
It had been stressed often enough.
So every day before heading out
I prepare myself.

First: Camouflage.
I buff paint into my skin, blending different pigments
So that I blend in with my surroundings,
It's safer that way.

Second: Equipment
My communications device is fully charged.
I check it - no messages - and stow it away.
Nearly ready to go.

Third: Provisions.
Nutrition vouchers, all stocked up.
Cards, paper, and transport tokens.
Time to report for duty.

I look once more in the mirror,
Shake out my hair,
Zip up my boots,
Touch up my lipstick, and
Head into town.

Hello? Introducing myself

Hello!
(Awkward silence as tumbleweed rolls across the blogosphere)

I'll just pretend that this post has readers, eh?

Anyway, hello! I'm Lily Morris, a writer from the United Kingdom. I grew up just outside London and I now study Politics at the University of Bath. I'm an award-winning poet with various interests I want to explore in the world of creative writing, and I thought a blog would be the ideal place to place it all.

I do have a personal/ beauty/ lifestyle blog, which I'm going to keep separate from this, but if you want to find out more about that or about me, just drop me an email at ll.morris @ live.co.uk (just separated the email address so that spambots will hopefully not pick it up!).