sarah lou smith
Biography of sarah lou smith
hi I am starting out poet, and like poetry as unlike prose is friendlier for dxlexia. so if my spelling off spell check cant understand the way I write.
I started off at art angel in Dundee as something to do and have improved over the years and learning every Friday about how to write even better.
I have borderline personality and anxiety. so some of my poetry will be dark at times. its either black or white.
now or my influences, slyvia Plath and her autobiographical style. kinda like the way i use my writing to sort out my emotions.
i am the oldest of four and took up writing properly after dabbling in it for twenty odd years. i was published in a school poetry competition at thirteen. unfortunately that was fourteen years ago and didn't keep the poem. so this time round while i have the time i am trying to go far was possible.
i am addicted to my iPod, love punk(1978 to 1982) and punk now. i Love reading and have currently 310 plus books and i have read them all. i am a bit kooky, and i am nuts he-he.
i am a cat mummy and pj will be mentioned alot. and there is a lot more, my biggest hope is to publish on book. only one as my main aim is to work with people in the future and writing will always be a big part o my life.
sarah lou smith's Works:
none so far
sarah lou smith Poems
sauntering along when suddenly she started to drown in fear, struggling with tides and caught unaware and breathing, in short supply
Cider Fuelled Confidence And Reply
boy do i love myself, i am amazing and perfect equally unstoppable and will set the world on fire 100% attitude and no longer needing to hunt my self esteem down
the constant pounding of footsteps, caused pain to their delicate ears and despite being use to constant Richter scale 8, nobody slept easily 7 trillion men, children and women got on with fixing buildings and earning their pay
A Poem To Remember For Hard Days
tomorrow is a new day, fears will evaporate and smiles will be permeated in our world sorries will be given and unicorns will
the house was built in 1850, seven fireplaces 10 servants and four members of the Joneses on the cold windy october day no holes in the roof or trees
a fear of saying the wrong thing a voice saying, don't offend anyone, don't say a word i don't like 1D, ignore, stare or a thank god what response is hard to gage
this hand will pick up trophies green guilt, kiwi flavoured this hand picks up pens of dreams ordinary yellow, leaning proudly
Its Never Over
legs weak and sweat beading not so slow ears deaf and eyes floating the uncomfy seat growing ever more
under currents and over currents sea life floating to a calmer tune ruled by waters way
it the chewing gum stamped in to the pavement slowly multiplying cell by cell, blocking your way no way round, through or jumping over
covered in heavy words and dried acrylic paint taking in all, hard to voice feelings a non judgemental, never to be seen friends
building 54 was not an exciting place not the tallest, nor the smallest with 200 more along the street an ordinary building in the city
Mr Archibald Lives At My House
educational services and debt collections Mr Archibald, please unhide i know you don't want to, but im fed up
27 Turned 14
forcibly shoved in my own wee world in a bubble that came free books, music and can you tell me what else? that desk in the door-less cupboard became my universe
under currents and over currents
sea life floating to a calmer tune
ruled by waters way
clear films of liquid torn apart
by boats speeding to ports and harbours
rocks and mile deep homes hidden
homes that surround the concrete post