Poetry

A collection of poems and hand-developed black and white photographs—quiet moments taken from beneath the surface of Cardiff. Nothing polished. Nothing curated for likes. Just fragments. Some barely held together.

Analysis of the poem "Dark Kittens" "Dark Kittens" is a poignant and subversive poem that employs the metaphor of kittens to critique the commodification of emotions, the enforcement of toxic positivity, and the suppression of authentic grief and wildness in contemporary society. The title itself juxtaposes "dark" with "kittens," setting up a contrast between superficial cuteness and underlying shadows, much like how social media and self-help culture package vulnerability as something adorable

(Rarely But With Feeling) THE SEMI-COLON SPEAKS (RARELY, BUT WITH FEELING) – a poem in partial conclusions – I’m not a full stop; I’m not a comma; I’m the shadow that falls between thoughts; a boundary, blurred; the lingering tension in a well-read pause; you used to know me. There was a time— you valued ambiguity; you embraced complexity; breath, hesitate, wander; you’d draw breath and know: it isn’t over, not quite yet; Now you swipe; you “lol” and move on. I don’t

A poem for all those Medium writers who peddle snake oil articles about how they can smugly tell if someone's using ChatGPT And lo—behold the mighty em dash— that brash sliver of breathless pause— once the haunter of high-minded prose— now marched to the frontlines of AI detection wars. Not commas, no— not full stops with their stiff-spined endings— but this: the dash—drawn sword of irony— sliced into syntax like spilled algorithm. They say—they say!—it’s how you can tell, if the ghost behi

every kitten is a reason to smile (and other slogans they tattooed in the nursery) purr loud enough and the grief won’t hear you. curl tighter and no one sees the claws. soft things are easier to sell. and so, we are kittens now. they whisper: "you are loved. you are safe. you are worthy." as they lift the scalpel. pink noses. plush pads. we are born in boxes lined with velvet lies. and every day, a new filter for the feed: ✨ today I choose joy ✨ (we chose nothing. we were bred for it.)