Walls ripped out from chapels are crudely stitched together to craft this room; like a homemade skin graft for a burnt hand, except the colours here don’t quite match and the skin was stolen from a poor man’s leg. A puzzle made of stained glass windows from Paris, columns from Rome, alters from Madrid are … Continue reading Finders Keepers – A Provocative Insight Into Museums
my thoughts
Rush Hour Crush
Grey, bleak, skipping past tired faces, sweaty lips, creased brows White knuckles clutching yellow poles, chewed nails with broken paint fiddle with split ends Empty eyes stare desperately into phone screens, typing but never pressing send; there’s no signal down here We’re being pushed through time and space in the dark, under a million people’s … Continue reading Rush Hour Crush
Falling Rain at Dawn
The distant sound of gentle drums drift into my dreams, I flutter into consciousness, I tear myself from the comforting darkness clinging to my skin under the sheets I'm pulled into the waking world quickly. A deafening throb of hearts beating, blood pumping, lungs filling, lashes parting, reassures me. Cold air from the night still … Continue reading Falling Rain at Dawn
The Bird
A bird is in her cage with shining new silver bars, At first she sang as she had not realised that she had been trapped, A prisoner of her vows. Now she has no voice, no house, no choice. Her strong wings have been clipped- And her wild ways tamed. Her once bright eyes now … Continue reading The Bird
The truth
Behind each smile I am breaking, Crumbling, flailing, falling, I am crying silently as I laugh, I am alone in the crowd, There is not enough air outside . The weight is crushing - it leaves bruises on my brain, Trying to hide this all inside my head, But I can't stop it overflowing onto … Continue reading The truth
Alicia Jones Poetry 