We covered so much floor with all those words, still with our mountains locked beyond the walls. I wish there had been a safe word for those little sessions in the kitchen - those slow mosquito raids on my soul, always to the clink of glasses and the stale stench of one too many. I wish there'd been a get-out clause... and a mountain, made of sunrise, sunset, ripple blue and ocean... waiting to let me walk it off.
About the Poet:
John Hulme is a writer and occasional performance poet from Merseyside in the North of England. Much of his poetry focuses on very intimate personal experiences (depression, anxiety, the aftermath of being a home carer), though he likes to write with a spiritual voice and an awareness of the wider implications of social justice. It was his desire to share this in community venues that led to Woodsy, his stage persona. Thanks to a shift in his circumstances, John is now looking to do some travelling, hopefully taking Woodsy on the road with him, saying stuff that feels scary to say -because this is often the most precious, beautiful stuff we have to say, and Woodsy the busking poet feels it’s about time we stopped feeling scared to say it.
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