It has been far too long since I last shared a story on this blog. I could blame lots of different things; the general chaos of life with children, the interfering tech gremlins that have refused to allow the laptop to connect to the internet, or just plain good old fashioned laziness. All of those things would be true, but in all honesty it is mostly due to pregna-brain, a curse I had heard of before but didn't really believe in.

Having got through my last three pregnancies with no interuptions to the creative process or strange behaviour I assumed I would be ok this time too. Now I am 35 weeks pregnant and wondering what on earth 8 months ago me was thinking when she told people that maternity leave would be a great opportunity to finish the novel and draft the next short story collection. Not only have I made little to no progress on Before Digital Dreams, I don't even have a theme for the next Strange Stories book, much less an outline. My subconscious has been far too busy hiding my keys in the fridge and stealing sachets of sugar from cafes without my knowledge to do any serious plotting or characterisation work.

All isn't completely creatively dead though - my muse may have packed her bags and stomped off somewhere but as I look back over the last few months worth of notebooks (as well as my twitter account) I have managed to unearth a few small snatches of poetry and thought bubbles of prose that may have some promise when my brain is working again. And since you have stuck by me through my dry spell, I think you deserve to see some of them, even if they are still very unpolished and very different from my usual style.

I will see you on the other side of pregna-brain, when I shall no doubt be blaming my lack of creative output on newborn tiredness brain fog, when I'm not putting the cat in the cupboard and the vaccuum cleaner out for the night.
;~)

Twitter Micro-Poems

Your name,
Tattooed,
On a secret spot,
Of my soul.
Indelible,
Defining,
And slightly sore.
#micropoetry

Too soft for life,
I retreat into my shell,
To hide from the world
And its sharp edges.
Yet there you are still,
A splinter of ice
In my soul
That will not melt
#micropoetry

Poetry Pieces

Burning

A spark
Not much
Barely an ember
I watched
Knowing I should get it under control.
But enjoying
Feeling the heat
Mesmerised
By dancing flames
And now the blaze rages
Running free
Untameable
No way to smother it
It has taken me
My fault.

Untitled

I want to run my fingers through your soul
Make you whole
Kiss in the lashing rain
Until we merge into one being
One flesh
A tangled mess
Of passions
And sensations
Under a crying sky
And let the rest of the world
Just fade away
Into nothingness
Because all that there is
Is this moment
These feelings
This time
And us.

Butterflies

You hold my heart in your hand
Gently
Like a child holds a butterfly
But
Like a child
Sometimes you forget
How easily you can crush me
Destroy me
With a careless moment
Without meaning to.
Still I stay
Poised on your palm
I'll not fly away
You are worth the pain.

So as I said, these are only little thumbnail sketches of ideas, and thought bubbles that have burst up through the brain fog. If you enjoy micropietry you can find much better examples by far more talented poets on twitter under these hashtags:
#micropoety
#mpy
#fireyverse
#heartsmeal

I'm blaming any typos I have missed on the fact that the terrible tech gremlins are making me type this on my phone. If you'd like to let me know what you thought of any of the pieces above then do let me know in the comments. Thanks for reading! :~)