catherine-graham
Scotland
Catherine Graham is the Scottish author of one book. She hopes to write more. She was first published in the Battered Suitcase, and has also been featured by Ink Pantry publications. She studied Creative writing at University and hopes to continue writing in some capacity when her degree is complete.
So I’m listening to Howl again
After Kate Tempest reminded me
Of Ginsberg
And Ginsberg reminds me of
The best mind of my generation.
Ginsberg’s words take me to your time
And Howl part 3 makes me think
Of the times you lived through
Living proof of some of
What he says
You were there
You were holy
You were shocked
More than 50 times
You would have Stood By Solomon In Rockland
And despite the fact you think you lost
In my eyes you won.
And I’m glad we stood by you in Rockland
When others walked away.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
Government says
There's biscuits in your cupboard
But you can't have them
There's oven chips in your fridge
But you're not allowed those
There's a pie in your oven
But you shouldn't have that either
But here's an apple, they say
I'm allergic to apples
Here's a banana
Allergic to those, too
But you like blueberries
Yes. I love blueberries
And you like Papaya
Yes
And Mango
Yes, I love all of those things
Then why don't you have one
I will
When?
When I've won the lottery
Why can't you eat them now
Because...Em.
Capitalism
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 9:16 PM UTC
Bed is the target
Not my bed
That's on the floor
And its a bit mishapen
Its covered in fur
And its got hidden biscuits
And a bone I put there
But can't get out now
No, my bed isn't the target
Its YOUR bed that's the target
The one with the douvet, the pillows
and fluffy, fluffy sheets
Its got a big springy mattress
And it looks nice sometimes
When its all covered in
MY paw marks
But it doesn't smell nice, though
Its smells of flowers
I would like it better
If it smelled of fox poo
But after I roll in the fox poo
You never let me on the bed
So how am I going to get it
to smell nicer
That's what I think about
When we're out on a walk
And you throw the ball
And I ignore it, and go for a roll
I roll in squirrel poo
Not as nice fox poo
But I make it nicer
by jumping in the river
You think a quick shower
with the garden hose
Will dissipate all these lovely smells
But you forget the shampoo...and I WIN
I get in the house
Dry myself on YOUR dressing gown
But still I smell
absolutely lovely
Like lamp posts, and drains
And bins
And that really nice smell
When I've been running in the wind
And no one's locked the bedroom door
So I run and I jump
And I roll and I roll
On YOUR bed
For five whole minutes
Then I hear you coming
Slowly stepping up the stairs
So I jump off your bed
Then jump into mine
Then wait and wait and wait
Then suddenly you jump up
And leave
I've no idea where you go all day
No idea, at all
But you've got a sneaky idea
Where I am
You know I'm on your bed
You know I'm making it smell lovely
Just for you when you come home
Hope you appreciate it.
Lots of Love From Your Dog
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 9:30 PM UTC
Reflected in an Edinburgh puddle
the yellow dancing light
From the gas lamps
is being disturbed
By a transient creature
who is quickly taking the shape
of a dancing girl
the Judge once knew...
...before he lost
His peace of mind
To innocent men...who
He let swing by a rope
And for a second
The girl is standing there, reflected
Reflected in both glittering underworlds
accessed by us only through puddles
And she's holding out her hand,
Beckoning to him, saying
"They forgive you, Sir
Every one of 'em."
Now the puddle is tsunami-ing
into a sudden commotion
And a wind from a dark place
Is briefly touching ours
And Now there are shards
Of scarlet, and black
Magenta and yellow
All strangled into dancing stars
Then the yellow light settles
Into stillness
The magenta of her dress is receding
And disappearing without moving
And the puddle's picture is resetting
Into, its previous shape, with the addition of
... a swishing tail from a creature unknown
And a crimson pulse of aortic Red
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 8:33 PM UTC
There was a cake
But no one ate it
Then there was no cake
And still no one had eaten it
But everyone remembered it
It didn't look that nice
It looked like it needed more chocolate
It looked like it needed less sugar
It tasted like...
Who said that?
No one answered
They looked at each other
with dark chocolately glances
No one ate the cake
It just vanished.
But not without comment.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
Dangerous Water
You told me
There were things on the beach
That caught fire
when lifted from the water
You told me
There were submarines
Disguised as monsters
In the the exact same waters
I told you
Not to look for these things
To stay away
From the water
Now I can't find you
And there are strangers
down by the waterfront
All looking at me.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 7:54 PM UTC