Review: Courtney Peppernell’s Pillow Thoughts

Pillow Thoughts is one of three books by Australian writer Courtney Peppernell published in 2017 and has become one of my favourite modern collections. Originally published in 2016, Pillow Thoughts gained international attention, with even The Chainsmokers talking about how much they love the work. Andrews McMeel then republished the collection in 2017, along with…

Poetry – Ex Amino

Autumn leaves painted the floors with bright reds, oranges, and yellows. Every gust of wind carried new crisp scents and each ray of sun wrapped its arms around me. “I want to go to big places, big cities and travel the world”, I said. We did. Mellow sunshine, rustic ruins, silver moons. In and out…

Poetry – Earworm

after “Better Love” by Hozier   The words and melody slip into my mind on repeat, their emotion an anchor that drops down into an ocean where you are swimming glittering and green mermaid-like. And the blue of the depths is as blue as the teal of the falling sky uplifted at sunset. Yahweh do…

Poetry: Happiness is…

Happiness is seeing the rainbow in the puddle. Three swans overhead Knowing one will leave the others but If I didn’t It would be the same as a sad legend The happy ending in the bittersweet Legends of children lost and alone but together until death The comfort of the bond of siblings and swans

Poetry: Silver Lining

Wisps of clouds reaching for each other but fading before they can touch Like the hands of the frail and the strong, One reaching for the other but falling before the can meet. Rain falls from the strong and the grey stormy insides drown the world around him The grey becomes silver Lightened from his…

Poetry – Breakfast.

They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. For a time, it was my only meal of the day. For a time, it was the only thing keeping me alive. But eventually, of even that I deprived myself. I craved the feeling of ice cold water trickling down to fill an empty…

Fiction: Rhapsody in Boole

Crushed brown beans and whistling hot steam, squashed mango pierced with a straw. The saccharine paste, dripping, at the back of my mouth. The solitary, synthetic caffeine surge. That shivering warmth inside of me. The September breeze. Shop windows and heavy eyes. The cries of the Examiner Startling the models, dummy struck, inside of their…

Tea and Soggy Ground

Hours of work to no avail, Searching for something that can’t be found, Looking through those wooden splintered shelves of the old bookshop, That used to bring the light of imagination to my eyes. Now only dull matter remains, Sluggishly guiding my weakening body, Through the mist of the early morning, Creeping into my brain…

Not-so-Dead Poets Society

When you think of poetry, it is likely that you recall the work of the poets that were on the Leaving Cert syllabus the year you did it; you remember resentfully the hours you spent reciting the lines from the poems you were told by your teacher to have learned by heart, the planning of…