Writers' Bloc: Response to 'New Impressions' by Grace Murray



High up, oppressed by cold cash,

a man-
making his way downstairs


a child-
struggling on stone floors

The lover,
parting with cold lips,

walking into the night alone.

One fox-
a delight of the small girl,

travelling through the barriers

she created.

A small tear,
cleaning dust on the mantelpiece, unheard by laughter
dancing around. 

Grace Murray (M5) 

Writers' Bloc: Response to 'Visitor' by Eleanor Rhodes-Leeder 

The Bubble Wrap Man

Swathed in plastic sheets To protect him.
He may look bulky now But he’s so delicate.

And each word Pops a bubble.

Beneath his armour, He isn’t alien,
Or angry,
Just scared.

Of hurting himself.

He looks in the mirror, Pop, pop, pop.

He walks down the street, Pop, pop, pop.

The bubble wrap man Crackles and pops Like a fire

He’s protected himself,
But the people who love him Just bounce off now.
A human bouncy castle With all the fun drained out.

He’s oblivious,
The only words that penetrate

Say pop, pop, pop.

By Eleanor Rhodes-Leeder 

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