This month’s theme was escape, be it drowning yourself in music or running away to a far away land – our writers offer up an alternative to the hum drum chaos of everyday life!
I long for
I long for everyone I haven’t met yet,
for reflected smiles on the face of a stranger,
for friends old and new,
for the company of anyone seeking escape.
I long for festivals where the music is so loud
my mind is rendered white noise scrambled by speakers,
for my body to be lost in a blur, a mess of molecules abuzz
in the crowd-dancing, singing along, calling out in collective joy.
I long for sleepless nights, back-packing by following the stars
mapped across the world,
for my tongue to trial staccato syllables and elongated vowels
As I speak in new languages, as fresh as local foods tasted for the first time,
I long for sunrises to drench the mountains, forest canopies, or ocean views
in the brightness of a new day, a new beginning
that can stop a heart. Then start it again.
For the mind, humbled, to reassemble itself before such beauty.
I long for my wishes to come true, to wash me up on the shore inside a bottle,
For the beach to be embedded in the folds of clothes and cling to my pores,
For my toes to tingle in sun-sparkled sand,
coiled seaweed the tendrils of mermaids’ hair,
I long, I long for…
Lauren Winson
Escape
Chatting, laughter, smiley faces.
I feel I don’t belong.
My presence here is wasted,
I just want to escape.
Get up and leave,
I feel trapped, suffocated,
And I don’t believe,
People would care if I did.
The worries in my mind,
Could be dealt with if I left.
I’m starting to go blind,
And deaf to my surroundings.
Can’t concentrate on all this talk,
When my brain’s preoccupied.
The strong desire to turn and walk,
Away from social situations.
But at times I can’t escape,
There’s no easy way out.
So I pause, a deep breath I take.
And try to engage in conversation.
Physically I may be there,
But mentally, I’m drifting away.
Unsure if people are aware
That something’s not quite right.
Other times, I need to go.
Can’t pretend anymore.
I look around, I feel so low,
So I make an excuse.
The escape is a relief,
But I’m sad that I had to.
The feeling’s bittersweet,
As I face the time alone.
Emily Patel
Peripeteia
Like its water that surrounds my feet
I feel bound by the tide;
Embraced by the winds whistle
As it floats around my eyes, cause me to
still.
Although I must admit and cry
All feelings in disguise- inside screaming:
I feel the thunders clap deep in the dark
I struggle to break out through the
blackness of its skies, ties (surrounding) my heart
rumbles;
as I neglect the long denial of it’s
burial; all feelings of powerless dismissal, all denial. I run wild…
As trees whisper a long felt loud dismay
At all my confines. It’s all on me.
The rules of life: thin now; narrow and cold refines, derives, to hear of the
Once. Again (escape) to ask them, such trees I plead
“please”, let me be
free…
There was once some water to surround my feet:
To bury me dry, cast me aside, until,
I cast it (put in reverse)-
What lingered were the fragments that concede
I took my rebirth- let myself go, fall in.
Take all that I am, (you’re) all that I do
Safe on the tide
Rejecting reality, fearing nothing:
Nothing to steal or to hide
And make me abide…
(All is well now)…the skies have cleared.
waves in my mind
softened: Heart beating, lapsed, then beat again
Became still:
I’m still,
All is still now
And whole again.
Olivia Morel
Cambodia
I’m on a plane,
Escaping my home,
For two weeks,
My first flight alone.
An exciting adventure,
Volunteering overseas.
Helping to build a classroom,
For those less fortunate than me.
Immersed in the work,
Meeting new faces.
Away from home’s routine,
Exploring new places.
Stepping out of my comfort zone
Bucket showers, mosquito nets.
Staying in the jungle,
With strange noises and insects.
Sometimes an escape,
Is all that you need.
A break, however short,
Before returning to reality.
Emily Patel
Auld Reekie
I found a view of Edinburgh,
framed in a glasshouse of heat and skyline,
on the top floor of a department store high-rise.
Unlike Calton or Arthur’s Seat,
there were no panoramic horizons,
no jostling cameras, just the sound
of water and Auld Reekie’s silhouette
through rippling window pane.
That was my angle of the city,
hot and glazed in a light shower
that was failing to hide to the yellow sun.
Yes, my Edinburgh was also
the base of temple-like columns
at the setting of the sun
with fierce winds inviting us to fly,
or dappled light on gravestones
with the coffee heat diffusing through card,
leaflets carpeting Candlemaker Row
and the restless beat of the piper
rattling through the streets we walk to Waverly.
But that little view of Edinburgh,
discovered on my tip toes after
a sodden day of books and Dean,
in a glasshouse of heat and skyline,
that was the moment the City
claimed my soul like so many others.
Holly Wilson
Student life
Returning to London,
For the long summer ahead.
Away from coursework,
The deadlines that I dread.
A break from routine,
My not so full timetable.
In between two places,
A student – that’s my label.
Escaping from the stress
Of revision and exams.
Taking a step back,
Now I have time to plan.
How to spend my days,
And my days this time next year.
Having all this freedom
Is something that I fear.
Leaving behind responsibility,
Buying food, paying bills.
Nothing something I enjoy
But something that I will
Do for the rest of my life.
So I welcome the summer break,
Although these empty days,
Are often hard to take.
So I’ll be ready to escape,
Back to being a student.
Where my purpose is clear,
Get good grades, pay my rent.
With more friends to fill my time,
And more things I’m working on.
An escape is what I need,
But not for a time this long.
Emily Patel
Monarch’s Wing
You are blue sky and honeydew coloured sunrise
Breaching the borders of my mind
The escape route I yearn for
Twisting down the ruins of a country lane
I find you waiting, at the bus stop
Lightly dusted in summer rain.
The match is thrown with the flare of your grin
Igniting the embers of the cavity within
I tumble with you
Sun-drunk
Down rolling velveteen pastures
Filled with the cloying scent of wildflowers
Kicking up clouds of dandelion dust
Wishing for more than a fleeting summer love
I finally gave in and got caught in your liquid gold gaze
With eyes like a delicate monarch’s wing
I finally took flight and fluttered away…
Esther Kearney
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Featured image courtesy of Georgia Butcher.
Article images courtesy of Ian Cardillo-Zallo (article image 1 and 7).
Article images courtesy of Tom Coppen, (article image 2 ), waferboard (article image 3), manhhai (article image 4) ,Son of Groucho (article image 5) and jessicahtam (article image 6) via Flickr.
Image use licence here.
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