Entry: fullfathomfive

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Name: Fullfathomfive, but Sarah will do nicely.
Age: 16
Genre: Free verse; dramatic monologues; rhyming couplets; nothing too black, erotic or suicidal.
Collaborations: I'm new, none.
Other round contests: Ditto, I'm a round virgin
How often on Allpoetry: I check it every day.
Who is my inspiration to write: Neil Gaiman, e.e.cummings, Jane Campion, Emily Dickinson, Spike Lee... Anyone who can bend words backwards and still stand on them.
Likes: Sun after rain, ice cream (melted), vintage jewellery
Dislikes: Rain after sun, shoes with holes in them, the colour orange.
Why auditioning: To be inspired, to be taught, to see something new in myself or others.

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These Are Pearls that Were her Eyes


I write because there’s nowhere else to
Go, I am because there’s no one else to be
The world just span, and here I am, the sky
Could fall, and after all I’d still be here
Disliking smoothies
And picking the raisins out of things.

I listen to the Weepies and I write about
The tendrils snaking round your neck like
Morbid necklaces, and comment on the fact
These necklaces were sold on stalls in
Sur-de-sac for a pound a penny

I once knew a girl called Jenny, she disappeared
But not for ever, just thirteen, she called me
From a phonebox on the A30 and cried
Just down the phone
I sat and wrote, about girls in Canada being so bored
So bored so bored that they razored up maple leaves
With nail scissors. She’s in a home, for troubled kids
I don’t visit, but I should.

I look at the sun through my fingers to see
How big it is. I stay up until 2 am to watch bad TV because
It reminds me of home, I belong somewhere where I
Have only been once, I’m going back. One day, I’ll know
Why birds are ugly, what makes snow, why army guys say
Go go go when if they knew surely, purely, then they would just
Stop.

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The beat that my heart skipped
Trembles on your
Tarentella feet, words spill
sand, viscous solids, from your lips
A solvent for the solute of
Your partner's hips

The world is over, music drips
From cracks in the soil of society's
Skin, in fits and stops.
Violins play on the titanic
roses flail as the storm hits
you dance, feet tripping and clumsy
Beneath you

The ceiling is lit, blazing planets
live, then die, the sky is torn
The mountains - pits, the seas are barren
The men admit
they were wrong, red buttons
torn from their sockets in rage and fits

You dance to it. The harsh cries, the trembling
floors, the reverberating lies of the land
as it fails, the ions crawling through their
eyes directly into the soul.

The beat that my heart lost
on its way to death, is stolen
by your arm as I follow it up to the sky, as I see the flick
of your hand and your face lit by quivering
Impermenance.