Poetry defines that which is insufficiently defined. It is the use of language at the very edge of what language can do
For my poetry I use language and images to relay emotion and situations that are to do with family, displacement and love
Member of Malika's Kitchen - one of the UK's foremost poetry collectives
Published in magazines including The Rialto and Magma
Long-listed (top 1%) in the UK National Poetry Competition 2017, 2018, 2019 (2 poems), 2020 (2 poems)
Shortlisted nationally down to last 14 for The Complete Works Poetry for up and coming minority ethnics writers - the most successful diversity programme in British Arts
Prize-winner (3rd place) in the Magma Poetry Magazine international competition, 2016
Prize-winner (runner up) in the Troubadour International Poetry competition, 2017 http://www.coffeehousepoetry.org/poems/troubadour-poetry-prize-2017
Commended in the Ambit International Poetry competition, 2018
Commended in the Magma International Pamphlet competition, 2018
We’ll continue to call it the Roadkill. How it got here in the waiting room is beyond anyone’s understanding but it’s the only one here that doesn’t understand it’s beyond saving. My mother is sitting opposite and with each passing hour has curled further into herself until she has become more brittle than the air around us. The Roadkill is blinking at us. It’s unable to speak as its throat has been severed halfway into its spinal cord.
When the surgeon sits down he doesn’t notice it. Four more hours on top of the original three of the bypass operation have passed and this is the third time he has come to speak to us. While the surgeon tells us about the two extra arteries he had to rip from my dad’s legs, the Roadkill pleads. It can’t cry because its tear ducts were twisted out of its skin when its cranium was crushed. It wants to be saved. I pray it doesn’t follow us home.