Poetry Month!

As you may or may not know, in the UK we have National Poetry day, but America has national poetry MONTH! My poetry lecturer is American and she has put the poetry month challenge to us. The challenge is to write a poem a day for the 30 days of April.

I will be taking up this challenge so I would appreciate any poetry prompts or ideas that people have. I have some prompts and I'm excited to get started as I think I can really play around with different forms. If anyone else is doing this please let me know!

Samantha x

I love it when you kiss me standing up

I love it when you kiss me standing up (Performance Poetry)


A poem I performed at my first open mic night in Bath

The Curse of the Semi-colon

The Curse of the Semi-colon (Performance Poetry)


A poem that I performed at an open mic night in Bath.

Widmouth Bay - Samantha Boarer

A dark sky rolls in

over yellow sands,

the rain piercing the sea.

The grassy waves overlook

the beach and when I lick

my lips I taste salt.

When I breathe deeply

the clear air runs through me

like blood and cleanses my veins.

I blink through bleary,

rain covered eyes at the

brave white legs that

bound into the sea.

The wind whips my hair

and I can smell my mother

cooking bacon in the van.

The darkness clears

but the wind stays,

taking our kite with it

as it blows across the bay.

My father is pulled along

by it’s four meters.

I stay close, with

fear and excitement

tightening in my chest.

I follow the streams

in the sand to the sea

and pause.

Feet sinking in the sand,

hiding from the harsh sea

that still bites at my ankles.

Surfers run past, braver than I,

to greet with the icy water.

A dog splashes after a stick,

nostrils flaring as he

sniffs the unfamiliar air.

I look out to the horizon

then close my eyes,

trapping the soft yellow of the sun

under my eyelids.

By Samantha Boarer

As yet untitled, any ideas?

I had lost you months before you went,

every night I dreamt of you, angry.

I was tired when I got the message. Spent.

All I seemed to do was wait, your loyal devotee.

Then the text from your dad telling me

the rope you used had been pulled tight.

Shock rose up like a screaming banshee,

while there you were, hanging in the night.

In too many corners of my mind I saw you,

swinging, tempestuously loving until the end,

throwing me what you thought was due,

attacking when you were supposed to defend.

And the one I thought I loved could not be found

when you wrapped your arms dangerously around.

By Samantha Boarer

In That Kitchen - Samantha Boarer

In that kitchen,

With the coffee machine bubbling

And the rich aroma

Slowly coming over me,

So I knew my dad was awake.
The television on quietly

So as not to wake anyone.

In that kitchen,

Where the ceiling was

wood clad,

And matched the many

Cupboards we had and

The table and benches

My Dad had made.

I used to run my finger

Along the grain until

I found a little dip.

I loved the feeling of the

Smooth varnish.

In that kitchen,

Looking out of the window

At the hundreds of

Christmas trees in the back field.

We were always allowed

To take one for ourselves

At Christmas and I sat

At our kitchen table

Where I was allowed a

Sip of wine, even though

I never liked the sour taste

Smarting in my mouth.

I always forgot how

Much it made my throat burn

So I just kept doing it,

In that kitchen.

By Samantha Boarer

Poesy In Motion

Hello,

Thanks for taking the time read my blog. I am an aspiring poet, especially interested in performance poetry. I’m extremely passionate about poetry and a lot of other kinds of writing but I also love the performance element of it.

In this blog I will include my poetry (page and performance) in the form of posts and videos. I will also share with you artists that inspire me.

I hope you enjoy reading!

Samantha x