a poem: square-eyed

i'm back! i hope you've had a lovely weekend. i've been stuck at my (humongous) desk this weekend with an overgrowing pile of coursework folders and pieces of scrawled-on paper. but i have written a poem - a very haphazard poem - written in a super short time by a super sleepy beth. i hope you enjoy, nonetheless.

{i'm over the moon to mention that this is trending over at hello poetry.. please pop over if you're there too!)

S Q U A R E - E Y E D

my mum used to joke

    that my eyes would turn square

 if i looked at pixels too long.

i remember the scare

that my pupils would bend

into inky black stamps,

and my retinas bleached

from the machinery glow.

that i would wander the streets

only for children to point
and scream

while their own mothers tutted

'you still want that playstation

for christmas?'

now i'm grown up

and that vision has died,

as the streets are all littered

with others, square-eyed.

i can imagine their

xylophone skeletons as

their fingers tap fast

on the tiny blue screens;

it's no wonder we aren't

very good with

eye contact.

so

i'm sorry mum,

we've all been entrapped

in this pixellated blur

of technological time lapse.

 and i guess all these

square pegs can't fit

into the round holes

that they used to be,

in a world that we cannot

remember.

-

goodnight,

beth x
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once upon a weekend in august

a year had passed since my first time at green man festival,  the magical music gathering held every august in the insanely atmospheric cradle of the brecon beacons in wales. and this august i found myself again, with fingers crossed and soon-to-be-muddied shoes on, setting off for yet another wonderful weekend.

green man has to be one of my favourite places i've ever been. even the mud and the soggy little tents and the bitterly cold nights seem to earn a certain charm. i feel like something innately human wakes up and compels my legs to stomp around the field happily, despite the puddles and crowds of fellow happy wanderers. all without, i must mention, too much argument from my brain which found plenty of contentment in the cosy bookshops nestled in the rows of friendly stalls.

//

i thought i'd share a couple of musical memories...

i. i still cannot get over of how much of a showman the beautiful bearded father john misty is. oh my. he is, without a doubt, one of my favourite finds this year in music, his two albums (1, 2) on cyclical overdrive in my spotify playlists. which made the fact that I MET HIM even more amazing. my friend k, a seemingly hawk-eyed fellow fan, let out an excited scream as she spotted mr. tillman walking past and we ambushed him. he was so lovely. the ridiculously lazy photographer i am, i completely missed out a photo op then (d'oh!) but i did manage to snap the pic above, from the front row, as he clambered down mid-performance to serenade us.

ii. if you haven't yet heard the folksy siren songs of marika hackman, prepare to swoon. this was the first time i've heard her live, alongside a handful of veteran fans i was lucky enough to be friends with. and boy do i know this will not be the last. i am absolutely in awe of marika's bittersweet, offbeat vocals and her weird and twisted and anatomical lyrics. not much else awakens the werewolf-strength instinct to pick up and (albeit, badly) strum a guitar as much as her jams. pop over to her youtube channel; i promise you won't regret it.

iii. i'm ready to shout from the rooftops about songhoy blues, an unstoppably groovy desert blues punk band hailing from the trouble-ridde land of mali. green man hosts a rough trade tent, a homely set-up selling band merch including, much longed-after, vinyls and t-shirts (of which you can spot my father john misty tee in my blog photo to the left). throughout the weekend, rough trade held several intimate acoustic sets featuring the smaller bands playing the festival. one of which was songhoy blues. i was immediately entranced by their jangly guitar riffs and smiling, grateful, immensely musical expressions. a new favourite for sure.

(all pictures taken by myself, on a disposable camera)

my green man playlist for 2015;

al hassidi terei - songhoy blues

bashed out - this is the kit

ophelia - marika hackman

mesmerise - temples

jogalong - rozi plain

birth in reverse - st. vincent

hollywood forever cemetery sings - father john misty

blood i bled - the staves

pedestrian at best - courtney barnett

swimming pool - emmy the great

-

i promise to be back soon, little blog.

beth x
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a poem: in the morning

{heads up! i've just started posting over at hello poetry}

this is my attempt at something a little more traditional ... to be perfectly honest, i'm not sure how i feel about it just yet but i'll let it sit a while. poetry is HARD.

I N   T H E   M O R N I N G

we emerge in the morning

from our cotton cocoon.
misshapen and distant,
spines upright too soon.

i peek out, hazy eyed -
from black spike corolla lashes,
fossil-old mascara dried.

you speak out, lazy mouthed -
our once bright expectations
now damp, fire doused.

fingers laced behind backs,
we promise to phone.
then finally go back to being alone.

-

happy friday,
beth x
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i don't know why i feel so tongue-tied

hi, i guess.
july seems like a strange month. it's always been time of finality; the long-awaited end to the academic year and the sweet transition into a bittersweet summer. there's a rebellious rush to burn books and papers and deadlines only for them to stay lurking, dust-ridden and unfriendly, in bedrooms until september reaches out its arms again.

~taken using my canon 1100d with a 50mm 1.8 lens~

i wanted to counteract this overwhelming feeling of finishing by starting anew, so here i am. my name is beth and i am eighteen years old, currently living in a sleepy little english town that lingers on the borders of wales. not so coincidentally cursed with what might be the s  l  o  w  e  s  t  internet speed of all time, you can still find me here, here and here.

i don't know why i feel so tongue-tied.
nice to meet you,
beth x
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hi, my name is beth. i'm a nineteen-year-old english & film student who watches way too much u.s. office.

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