Emotion & Expression
A space for intensity — whether it’s a teacup tempest or the quiet aftermath of a storm. These poems explore the highs, lows, and often-unspoken parts of the human experience.
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40 Minutes
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Are You OK?
“Are you OK?” asked the nurse, as machines hummed and lights glared. The patient, yellow-tinged, weary, lay silent while the world hurried around her — fluids, paracetamol, antibiotics, needles and scans, the mystery of illness written in her blood. And what of her husband? Inside: fear, exhaustion, despair. Outside: armour of calm, the warrior, the rock at her bedside. Is he OK? She is not ordinary — if such a word belongs to anyone. Her body a puzzle of conditions that weave together into fragility, into fight. Is she OK? Days blur into nights. Corridors become home, moved from ward to ward, sleep fractured by monitors’ beeps, by rubies of…
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Status
“What’s on your mind?”Shut up, Facebook.I’m not here to spill my soulinto another scrolling feed. I’m talking about status—not likes, not clicks,but standing in society.It’s not what you know,it’s who you know. Some chase it,some wear it like armour.Once they’ve got it,they don’t care what you think—because they’ve arrived.And we? We’re just the plebs. But what does it buy you?A pedestal, higher than the rest?Snobbery. Foolishness.Lavishness. Loneliness. Status isn’t all it seems.You can hold it in your handand still be hollow—always learning, never teaching. Status whispers:you’re too good for common people now.But you weren’t born into it—you clawed it from power’s grip. Now you stand apart,a black sheep in a…
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Are You There?
We’ve all been there—drifting into the abyss,slipping out of place,until reality claws us back,kicking, screaming, unwilling. And what a reality it is. A world that hums,a world that races,people trapped inside their own little bubbles.Obsessed with drama.Drowning in demands. Your voice bounces,echoes,lost in the hollow chamber of noise.And you ask yourself—“Does anyone even hear me?” Meanwhile—someone lies in a hospital bed.Alone. Mum.Dad.Nain.Taid.Aunty. Uncle.Brother. Sister. Too far to visit.Too busy to call.Are their families there for them?The answer? … No. And when a stranger collapses in front of you,are you there? When someone is dragged to the ground,their voice cut short—are you there? No. Most turn their faces away.Most step over…
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Do You Listen?
Do you listen? I’ve spoken before about voices —how it’s hard to be heard in a sea of noise.But I need to ask again:Do you listen? Do you listen to your wife,your husband,your partner,your children? Did you listen to your parents?Your grandparents?Your aunts and uncles? Do you listen to your colleagues,your students,your friends? I do. That’s what I do —I listen.I’m someone to rely on,to laugh with,to tell your story to. But let’s turn the tables for a moment. Would you listen to me? You’re listening now, I know.Reading this.Following along. But are you really paying attention? Society doesn’t want people to listen.We’re all too wrapped up in our own…
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Voice
What is a voice if it can’t be heard?A whisper lost, a silent word.Heard where? At home, on stage, in halls?Or nowhere—bouncing off the walls? We hear so many voices near—Parents, siblings, those we hold dear.Grandparents’ wisdom, friends who care,But what of those in power there? Teachers, medics, those in blue—Do we listen? Do we valueWhat they say, or turn away,Ignoring words they speak each day? And what of leaders, those on high—Councillors, ministers, spinning lies?They preach of cuts, they talk of debt,Yet do they hear our voices yet? When does a voice stop being true?When words are staged, rehearsed anew.Debates, old lines, the same refrain,We’ve heard it all and…
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Storm in a Teacup
Have you heard of the phrase, so often said? A storm in a teacup—spinning in your head. A tempest confined, yet raging inside, Twisting, shouting, no place to hide. It starts so small, just a ripple, a wave, A thought, a worry, a mind to save. And though a teacup is easy to drain, What if the storm just fills it again? Pour and pour—too much to contain, The weight of the world, the whisper of pain. And when it spills, shatters on the floor, You scramble to gather what was yours before. But hear me now—you’re not alone, The tempest will pass, the winds have flown. Discard the storm, let the echoes cease, Put the cup down,…
