We Are 138 #64 - Reply

Den Jenkins replied to your comment
Den Jenkins rubbish, hes the only one talking sense
You He’s belittling the achievements of those women….he wouldn’t do that if it was a man he was stood next to.
Den Jenkins you didn't say that this morning
You What are you talking about????
Den Jenkins watching him on youtube
You And HOW do you claim to know what I’ve been watching?
Den Jenkins in your pink dressing gown, black coffee - blue mug
You I’m calling the police right now.
Den Jenkins he reminds you of J… that smile, why you watch
Den Jenkins wondering if his new girl hugs him from behind at the kitchen sink
Den Jenkins if she makes him tea how he likes
Den Jenkins what perfume she wears
Den Jenkins if it reminds him of you

Cherry Doyle is a Staffordshire-based writer and Business Analyst who likes animals and dislikes olives.

We Are 138 #63 - Dinner And Tea

I’m a Northern Manc and I don't eat lunch
I’ve never sat down to a Sunday brunch
Why the change? Just a hunch
A thing called class that packs a punch

When I went to school it was always dinner.

A different name hasn’t made me thinner.
Free school meals, branded “sinner”
Seconds of pudding, always a winner.

I get home from work and I eat my tea
Not a cup and saucer and a cake at three.
Television, plate on knee
Some say crude, but for me it's twee.

The meals I eat have Manchester names.
Tall and proud we stake our claim
Resist the urge, stay the same
Reject, stave off this Southern shame.

All this talk of dinner and tea,
cups and saucers, plates on knee.
Lunch and brunch a grand soiree.
Now I’m hungry.


Audrey Slater is Mancunian born and bred. She works in Mental Health, committed to seeing the person, not the illness.

We Are 138 #62 - Franken Daddy

Bree was a bright girl, lived in the libraries of her school and city, spent all of her spare time in books. Books written by exceptional women. Her favourite so far was Mary Shelley.

She had one woman in her life who was far from exceptional - her mother.

Bree never had a father, so following her latest literary conquest's footsteps decided to make one, but she would be a far less horrid creator than Victor Frankenstein.

She knew what her dream dad should be like, what he should look like, what he should smell like, she had even studied up on how to stick all the pieces together. There were just two things holding her back: how do I gather the right parts, and, how to make them work? Hmm, electricity, or some kinda voodoo? Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Alys Daddi is soon going to be making her publishing debut with "The Little Exorcist," coming soon from Burdizzo Books. She is a river-dwelling hermit who's only friends are animals and the small people who still believe in imps and fairies.

We Are 138 #61 - Awareness

Treat yourself.
Treat as is-

another excuse.

Stay clothed,
wrapped in bloody cellophane

Treat as if
its existence prevents risk.

Abstain from “risqué”-
taking pleasantries in vain

Fight the urge-
say you did.

Appease the itch-
Forge relief.

Prod with syllables//tongs.
Widen with intent.

Does awareness
constitute
a wound,
rather than injury?

Cognant,
Malicious or not.

Deciduously,
if the blisters lacing skin dissipate
you'll find another excuse to cloak.

Drink enough to blend at the party,
but not draw attention.

Cotton wisps blanket the sun,
who still manages through,
too vibrant to ignore.

Wincing in pain,
you can't say the same.

The sky appears.

You shut the blinds.

Lock the door.

You cannot medicate//evade
oxygen feeding open flames
with your hands on the burner.

Retract from the heat.

Seek contentment;
comfort in the hearth
beyond familiarity.


My name is Nickolas Erickson. I'm a full-time musician, and also an aspiring writer/poet from southern Kentucky currently residing in Louisville.

We Are 138 #60 - Selling England By The Pound

You can imagine it, can’t you? Easy as blinking. You know how it would unroll, because you’ve seen it countless times before. The faux disbelief. The mounting sense of outrage. The doorstepping, the banner headlines, the scapegoating. Oh, the lead characters change, as a fresh victim finds themselves in the crosshairs of the loaded media gun, but the roles? They’re the same. Always have been, always will.

Yet here we are, experts after the fact, in the comfort of our armchairs, looking for someone to blame. Tutting that someone should have taken charge, abandoned the ‘stay put’ policy, have made that decision to move families out from flats into choking stairwells thick with smoke.

And how would the media react when someone took that decision, and people still died?

You can imagine it, can’t you? Easy as blinking.


Steve Pottinger was told he’d get less angry as he got older. He hasn’t.

We Are 138 #59 - Age Old Problem

It’s all gone too fast, first breath to inevitable last,
Failing vision still views clearly, memories of times long passed,
Forgetfulness replaces guilty feelings, remorse a shadowy stranger,
Living long and sad days, mind stressed but still free to be calm,
I plot my demise secretly, only I know the what, when, where and how,
Suicide by old age, no bullet fast death, only time from then to now.
Each and every step watched over by a ticking grandfather clock,
The day soon comes when my heart decides it’s to finally stop.
Do not mourn my death, do not remember my life,
Memories fade to black, suicide isn’t painless,
Time passes whether I’m here or not,
From birth to death most of us are barely alive,
And in a single moment each and every one of us,
Dies.


Alan Wilkinson is a writer of dark poetry and occasional children’s books (not as dark but quite surreal). I’ve been writing for a long time and was first published in 1987 and I just go on and on and on...

We Are 138 # 58 - A Conversation With A Book

So, what should I write?
WHAT?
I decided to be a writer and went out and bought myself this pen and notebook and now I need something to write.
IF YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WRITE WHY SHOULD YOU WANT TO?
It seemed an exciting lifestyle choice and something that doesn’t take too much skill. I get bored if I have to put too much effort in.
WHAT IS THE PROBLEM THEN?
Well, it’s harder than I expected. I can’t find a topic and I think I might come off as an idiot.
WHAT KIND OF TOPIC?
Something snappy enough to hold the readers’ attention, but not pulp. Something intelligent. Original too, definitely, but referencing tradition.
HMM, TRICKY ONE. LET’S GO BACK A BIT. ARE THERE PARTICULAR DAYS WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE AN IDIOT?
Oh, all the time.
AH.

Benedictus Arblaster is a Brit who grew up in Belgium and has lived in Cologne for the last 12 years. He's also a writer who will certainly get around to writing something one day soon.