TeleportMe

'A poem for myself, age 12, sat by herself in the toilet after her period bled through her white tutu on stage.'

You were stood in the wings, gelled back bun and static electric nerves, waiting for the first stepyou didn’t even notice the cramp,Too focused on your first slow steps. The arrival of the swans is

'From an Unsent Letter'

CW: This poem contains discussion of mental unrest.I buried my feelings in the barren crags of my restless mind;I rejected them as unreal, I refused to voice them,My body paralysed under their

daytime sleeper / ruminations 2 / ruminations 4

CW: These poems contain discussion of mental illness and suicide.(daytime sleeper)Some nights I am driving a car,Always from the passenger seat,Always my mum’s car.And I never reachWhereverOr

'The Orchardist'

I am in my fourth year studying English and Scandinavian studies. I've loved writing for a long time now and think it's such a powerful way to send the stories of ordinary people to extraordinary

'Near- Perfect'

This is not a superstition,But in the dissection of male self-image,As a Christopher,I face an inordinate amount of competition,For instance:I fucked off to Vienna for a bit,Enjoying beery-schnitzelly

A Poem in Response to 'Regeneration' by Henry Vaughan

When Vaughn wrote regeneration, he discussed a spiritual enlightenment mainly to do with discovering faith. While to me this idea is true, I believe regeneration also is about the discovery that you

'Leaving a Place'

Leaving A Place by Reuben Fox McClure, aged 20 n a bit Thoughts from the 10:15 There’s a certain joy to leaving a place. A triumphant turning of the page, a satisfied folding of the top corner — a

On New Year's Resolutions, and dread.

The New Year, to me at least, seems to be the worst time of year for everyone. We open with New Year’s Eve, consistently the most over-hyped party of the year. You can feel the static energy of

'The Road to Beach'

I wrote this after reading the poem 'The Way Through the Woods' by Rudyard Kipling; its last line, "But there is no road through the woods", particularly inspired my own writing. I was struck by the

'Messages from my Mother'

I was talking to my mother about my first year as a student in Edinburgh when I was back home in Karachi over the summer, and realised that all the little reminders she would message me from time to

'This Place; Or - Edinburgh as a salve for even the most hungover of souls'

The day after a night out sometimes I awake, confusedRealise I’m holding my breath in the base of my throat in a silent, empty room.Connect that confusion with regretted, acridic vodka, taken in

'The Linguistic Privilege Gameshow'

Language, and particularly the power dynamics of language, is a theme I’ve been exploring recently, and this is one result of that exploration. The ‘game-show’ aspect of it allows for an

'Everything, Nameless'

Ollie Turbitt is a student, musician, and writer based in Edinburgh. His creative inspirations include avant-garde music scenes, DIY culture, the Beat Poets, Zen Buddhism, lots of coffee, and the

Uniforms

These days, I find myself wearing the University of Edinburgh uniform. Even though I don’t wear the classic puffer jackets and headbands, you’ll find Depop dungarees, an oversized shirt from

'I Drew My House'

For many of us, part of beginning a university education is leaving home. This poem combines the heartache of leaving home with a grown-up take on one of the first tasks we are given in primary school

'A Birthday'

On the theme of 'back to school,' this poem tells the intermittent story of a turbulent time at boarding school as the speaker discusses his life on three consecutive birthdays, detailing the fraught

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