Society & Injustice
Verses that speak truth to power — tackling inequality, politics, and the systems that fail us. These are poems of protest, satire, and the will to make things right.
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After the Count
A poem about election, public trust and the work that begins once the cameras have gone.
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The Empty Shelf
An empty bathroom shelf doesn't stay in the bathroom. Written for National Hygiene Week 2026, The Empty Shelf explores the unseen consequences of hygiene poverty.
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Gwnewch y Pethau Bychain
In a world that keeps asking us to want more, move faster and consume without end, Gwnewch y Pethau Bychain reflects on a changing North Wales landscape — and the small choices that may still make a difference.
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The Tools Around Me
The tools around us have changed, but creativity has always been human. A spoken-word reflection on AI, accessibility, expression, and the voices that still exist beneath the noise.
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Manners (Out of Stock)
It’s the little things you notice when they’re no longer there.
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Who Gives a Crap?
Author’s note: This one wasn’t planned.It just came out—somewhere between frustration with the world and trying to hold myself together within it.There’s a line in here that’s very real, and a moment I didn’t expect to share—but it felt important to leave it in.Sometimes we carry more than people realise.And sometimes, it only takes a voice from the past to unravel everything. Who gives a crap? Who gives a crap about some orange-tinted “Master Chief”playing war like it’s Halo?Everybody – or so it seems. Who gives a crap about the ongoing battle in Ukraine,still quietly burning in the background?Nobody – the algorithm moved on.Slava Ukraine. Who gives a crap about…
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Held
it’s just a thought.One small idea.Barely formed. Something I swallowbecause it’s easierthan explaining again. It sits behind the teeth.Under the tongue.Polite.Contained. I tell myself:“It’s almost time.”That the silence will stop.That waitingdoesn’t cost anything. The world lovesthis version of me.The quiet one.The reasonable one.The one who understandsthe process. So I wait. And while I waitthe voice doesn’t disappear –it presses. It becomes a weight in the chest.Tightness.A currentlooking for a way through. Because a voicecannot be pausedwithout consequence. What happens insteadis that it flows inward.Every unspoken wordadds pressure.Every delayed answerraises the waterline. Still,they don’t hear it. They say I’m calm.They say I’m coping.They saynothing looks wrong. They mistake restraintfor consent. But…
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What You Don’t See (But Refuse to Notice)
A sequence Author’s Note: This sequence is drawn from lived experience of navigating public space, healthcare, and transport as a disabled couple. It is not written to invite sympathy, but to demand attention — particularly to the moments where voices are ignored, time is rushed, and need is mistaken for inconvenience. The poems speak in more than one voice because life does. I. What You Don’t See (But Refuse to Notice) On the outsideI’m fine.Standing.Breathing.Passing. Inside, everything hurtsfrom being held togetherfor your comfort. One wintry evening at Chester StationI had to shout.Not because I wanted to.Because no one moved. A crowd pressed in,eyes forward,bags wide,space guarded like property. I raised…
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40 Minutes
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Wyt ti’n gwrando?
Mae’r byd yn llawn sŵn — ond ai dyna’r broblem?
