Poem. Sensation. Katie Lewington.

are you aware, but I don’t dare ask,
how I feel
as your fingers sweep across my thigh
strumming the planes of my bare skin

it has been, oh a week?
are you aware
how I am feeling
pinching my cunt tight

your fingers
delve inside

      slide over my material fabric
and touch what is inside
part my lips and firmly push

                                              are you aware 
of how this feels
to me?

K.L 2016  ©



Short Story. Photo. Katie Lewington.

It was their second year together as a couple and that meant it was their second holiday in Wales, which took place in the summer and not only was it the two of them, but her boyfriend’s two brothers came too. They had a routine of sleeping until lunchtime then exploring through streets, up steep hills blotted with grass and chipped stone walls.
‘July!’ Jake, one of the brothers, called and she turned, with the sleeves of her cardigan swaying like that of a magician’s robe.
The sun in her eyes, she put up a hand to them, her mouth squinting and she then heard the click of a camera shutter.
‘OK, that’s cool’ Jake said, as the photo slid from the camera. She marched up to him, touched his bare elbow. ‘It’s terrible! tear it up’
Jake pretended to consider.
‘Nah’ he then decided, waving the photo in the air.
‘Please’ she pressed her palms together.
‘No. I think you look alright’
‘You wouldn’t under-‘
The photo was whipped from his hand and shot away from them. There was now two of July in Wales.
She was still grumbling about it when they stomped across the boggy land as a shortcut to the caravan she shared with her boyfriend, William. Jake had his own house wedged up on one of the hills that you could see from a safe distance away.
William was sleeping, his polo jumper rucked up on his bronzed chest and fingers dipped in the Chow Mein. They passed underneath the line of her underwear that hung between the kitchen and living room.
‘Lets go play football’ Jake suggested. ‘Then we can go to the pier tonight. Chris will have the ball’
Chris was the third brother.
She shut the bathroom door in his face.
‘Suit yourself’ he yelled, giving the door a thump with his foot. Then he grinned and rushed outside to the side of the caravan, where the window of the bathroom, which was open to let loose any lurking bad smells, was already being banged closed. He put up his hands, placing them on the ridged side of the caravan and begun to shake.
‘Fuck off’ he heard her yell from inside.
‘You fucking love it’ he said.
William was at his side, zipping his trousers. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Nothing. Waking you, you lazy bastard. Lets play footie’
July was glad that Jake had gone. She could have five minutes to herself to do the pregnancy test.
If she was pregnant, which of the brothers was the dad?


K.L 2016  (C)

Book Review. Canvas Of Imagination/Space To Dream. Stacie Eirich.

Canvas of Imagination is a collection of poems by Stacie Eirich, which can be downloaded for free at Smashwords.com
These are poems that were written by Stacie as a teenager and are quaint. There are poems of unicorns and angels, as well as love and the faces that people wear.
I think these lines are ‘Daily trips to the moon
and talking animals
would be common
AIDS would be cured
there would be no sickness
and no one would commit crimes
if I were in charge of the world
sweet in the poem If I were in charge of the world.
I notice that Stacie is a descriptive poet and the poem Visions is excellent and I think by far my favourite of the collection. 


Space to Dream is a lengthier collection of poems by Stacie Eirich and are, for the most part, enjoyable. These are poems of nature, being by the beach and then there those which are erotic and caused my ears to blush. I like that in Journey of a Reader: In Thanks to all Writers Stacie is appreciative of other writers. She is certainly aware of what is around her and an observational writer. There are also prose poems and poem Charmer held me in suspense until its end.
These are fantastic poems. Simple, picturesque and full of life too, with much diversity in between the subjects she writes about. My one criticism would be that the poems are divided into chapters and so the, particularly the poems of nature, are similar in what they say and perhaps they could have been spaced out but that is a personal preference I think. Space to dream can be purchased from Amazon, in an ebook or paperback edition. 


Indian Summer

She reaches out to him across
the frozen expanse, her tiny thin
icy fingers meeting his
enfolding her in a grasp of safety
her heart wrapped in his gaze
like pink cellophane
melting like a milk-chocolate candy.

He pulls her toward him, her
strawberry-gold hair
falling in rivulets onto his
awaiting chest
she feels his breath collide
with her own, skin meeting skin
in the frostbitten night.

The silvery snowed moon holds them tight
in her keep, the blustery December winds
beating against them.
Her cracked, cherry lips moisten
against his, parting delicately
as tongues slip to and fro
dancing against each other.

A myriad of colors, red orange yellow hues
bursting like newborn stars
shower the crisp winter sky above them
enfolding them in the slumber
of an unexpected season of warmth
formed from their passion
as they kiss in the snow.



About the Author


Stacie Eirich is a dreamer who loves literature, music, theater, travel, and her two children. She has self-published two collections of poetry, Space to Dream: Poems and Canvas of Imagination: Poems. Read more of her poems, prose & book reviews @www.stacieeirich.blogspot.com. She lives north of New Orleans, La – mothering, dreaming, and writing.

Connect with Stacie @:

Book Review: Displays. Gary Beck.


Displays, a collection of poetry by Gary Beck, does not begin lightly, with a poem detailing the events of 9/11.
The style of these poems is not too fancy that you cannot enjoy them, although they often need to be read several times because these are poems with meaning that require reading between the lines and are bold I think.  Allocation of resources tells us
‘As our prisons grow more populous

than some of the world’s nations,

we should consider the lost resource

of men idly sitting in their cells

serving unproductive sentences

who might be enlisted

with appropriate protections

for our society,

for public service,

a chance for redemption
This seems to be poetry mainly focusing on Iraq, war, America, France, workers, tenements, bull fighting,  privilege,  ‘I sit on my terrace in safety

with doves and finches for company,

still protected by my government,

still able to dream tomorrows’

and I think shows up a mirror to the world and its faults as a whole. There’s a lot to reflect on in these poems. It feels like a book with purpose. There are poems, such as Newton and How to Know the Birds (an Introduction to Bird Recognition) which are humorous and give some light relief.
My one criticism would probably be that because of the amount of poems, take each poem one at a time and appreciate it.  This is also I feel heavy with some poems and yet light on others, especially towards the end of displays. It feels like more trivial poems are left to make up the rest of the collection, whereas those that are political make up much of the beginning and middle. Giving this an odd balance.
Really this is a book of two halves.  The first half is a stirring speech of poems on our culture and world and the second more wistful and fun. 
Some of the poems could have been written as one instead of separately,  otherwise it feels like this stalls and repeats itself at times but for its theme, perspective, and social commentary displays  is a book well worth the money, for reading and sharing. 

There is one poem I would like to share with you, which personally I feel is true and sums up my own feelings.

Poetry 2005

The guardians of poetry,

mostly self appointed,

produce polished products

that make their universities proud.

Don’t all poets go to college now?

Somehow they’ve managed to convince

a non-discriminating public

that form is more important than content,

style more necessary than substance.

The endless hordes of versifiers,

mostly sustained by academia,

have subtracted the elemental fire,

constrained the extremes of emotion,

removed the excess of fervour,

provided well-constructed poems

as substitutes for passion

that make poetry a desert sameness,

elegant, remote, serene,

infinitely arid.

Displays can be purchased at Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. 
Stay updated by liking Gary Beck’s page or visting his website.


I haven’t a full length mirror in my room, there is
one in the bathroom
I notice my reflection
as I brush my teeth and splash cold water on my face
I know I’m fucking gorgeous
but I feel fat
my eyes are blurry
I’m short sighted, I guess
perhaps from a distance I can only see me warped
and I’m aware my chin is large, nose too
teeth crooked,  hair a throw back
body shape – curvy 
and yet I’ve read enough into cosmetic surgery
from all perspectives
to be aware
on the outside I can be the version of beauty numerous magazines have manipulated
yet inside I will still loathe me
so what is the use
if the plastic can only shield me
and make me liked by other people
what I need to remember is
I’m fucking gorgeous and
on this occasion I am wrong
why make an enemy of the only carriage that is going to carry my lazy ungrateful arse around

screw the people,  mirror
screens and
social media

I am a unique individual and there is nothing wrong with me. 

K.L 2016  (C)



Conversation with self –

got no money
well, I’ve been here before
I’ve got nobody
been through this before too
I’m hungrybut you aren’t starving
be grateful?
you guessed it
be grateful
you’ll survive
or manage at least
you have done before
I know –
still difficult to follow
this perspective is an oiled rope.

K.L 2016  (C)