Creative Corner – ‘Escape’ Showcase

A collection of poetry on the theme 'Escape'

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



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



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


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


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


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



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


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

To get your work featured, send your submissions to, or message Esther Kearney via Facebook.

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 5and jessicahtam  (article image 6) via Flickr. 

Image use licence here.

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