#ProjectPoetry 3

So, yeah if you’re new to the #ProjectPoetry posts, here’s the skinny.

#ProjectPoetry is a creative writing project written in collaboration by 4 bloggers, a poem a week, 4 weeks.

Each poem starts with a line from the previous poets poem.

My iPad is an asshole and refuses to let me paste hyperlinks to my blog posts so please check the end of this post for a links to the previous poems.



Smile like it’s alright
Hold perfect poise
Don’t let the mask slide

to ease other’s concern
Nothing to see here
Nothing to learn

Learn how to carry it
Curled up
by your eyes
Smile lines can hold a perfect disguise

Though when the mask slips
And the cracks begin showing
You can not be angry at them for

A smile as a mask
A smile as defenses
A smile to hide darkness
A smile

Cupcake Mummy – http://cupcakemummy.wordpress.com/2014/10/04/projectpoetry-round-3/

Flat White Concepts – http://theflatwhiteblog.wordpress.com/2014/10/01/projectpoetry-3/

GreenLydia – http://greenlydia.wordpress.com/2014/09/30/project-poetry-week-3/


#ProjectPoetry 1

I have been lax and this poor blog of mine has been ignored in favour of new friends, drawing, life, a new business and other distractions.

My awesome friend CupcakeMummy invited me to join in on a fun little creative writing project, so here we are. I am trying my hand at poetry. My writing stills are as blunt as the EFF in parliament and inspiration is in short supply. Hopefully this will help get the creative juices flowing.

This is a collaborative effort between GreenLydia, Flat White Concepts, Cupcake Mummy and myself. (I am struggling to add hyperlinks from my iPad and will link the other blogs later from my PC)

The idea is that we’ll each write a poem a week. The first line of our poem will be the highlight line from the previous writer’s poem. Cupcake gave me the line: “the hunger to fit in”

Here goes:


Slipping through the cracks

The hunger to fit in
a body that curves in
foreign ways

Fit in a society that leaves
This expansive self

The hunger to belong
without curious glances
or whispers

Do they see how
I drift out around the edges
like smoke

Curling around those hands
that would pack me
in a pretty little box

The previous poems can be found here: