Innocence on the Surface

Posted: May 19, 2017 in Uncategorized

Written at Rosie Garlands fantastic workshop yesterday with my group Langley writers

Innocence on the Surface

A picture of innocence

She is a vision of youth

We gaze upon this beautiful child

Yet unfolding from her back

Appears blackened leather like wings

In a flash she flies

Into the dark and terrifying woods

We wait

Fear flooding our veins

Expectation making our hearts race

She reappears

Leaning on the deteriorated

Wooden fence

Her gaze is chilling

As her dark eyes

Stare into the distance

Her mouth is stained

With the blood of a fresh kill

It seeps down her chin

Staining her pretty dress

We stand frozen, afraid, shocked

Will she come for us?

Holding breaths in

Scared that she will notice us

Watching her, waiting for action

Finally her wings open widely once more

And off she flies

Into the night

A mysterious creature

Gone but never forgotten

By Katie Haigh

copyright@K.Haigh 18/05/17

Photos by Colin Batty


Magazine Perfection

Posted: May 16, 2017 in Uncategorized

Magazine Perfection



The girl looks in the mirror.

Her reflection stares back.

Her magazine is reflected too,

Lay open on her bed.

The girl in the magazine,

Catches her eye.

She is what you’d call,

‘Magazine Perfection’

In comparison,

The girl is imperfect.

She has some extra fat,

Hanging around her waist,

And arms.

Her breasts aren’t as perky,

As hers,

Or quite as big.

The girl in the magazine,

Has smooth clear unblemished skin.

Not one mark caresses her body.

The girl touches her face,

A few spots are scattered,

Across her cheeks,

She has a scar next to her eye,

From a childhood fall,

On the playground.

The girl in the magazine,

Is effortlessly sexy.

She is sex appeal,

Without the slut factor.

Other girls try and fail,

To carry this look off.

Instead of subtle sexuality,

They get words like,

Whore thrown around.

The girl analyses her body,

Her bum is too flat,

She’s defiantly no,

Kim Kardashian.

Her hips are much wider,

Than the magazine girl.

Her lips are pale,

Lacking lustre.

Her eyes are a dull grey,

Not sparkling greens or blues,

Like the magazine girls.

Her skin is very pale,

She is naturally pale skinned.

The magazine girl has a,

golden bronze tan,

Her skin seems to skimmer,

Seductively so.

The girl in the magazine,

Looks happy,

Like she’s achieved,

All of her desires.

Like she has a deeply,

Fulfilling life .

The girl looks at her arms,

Angry red scars,

Mark them.

Scars of frustration,

Sadness, imperfection.

Trying to fit in,

In a world,

Where she just doesn’t fit.

And what enables,

These feelings of despair,

Low self esteem,

and lack of confidence.

Well part of it,

Is caused by,

The girl in the magazine.

By Katie Haigh

copyright@K.Haigh 14/05/17
Photo by Ashleigh Haigh



Posted: May 8, 2017 in Uncategorized

An old poem of mine



On the 163

Going to Manny

Seems to last

For an endless hour

Travelling through Langley

Past plagiarised houses

Tip tapping my mobile

To help the time fly

Silently shuffling in my seat

Lost in tunes from my mp3

My mind wanders

To poems unwritten

People get on in sequenced step

Stealing seats left warm

By passengers before

Teenagers accumulate in dark corners

Launching spit balls from straws

For respect from peers

Little old ladies

Stumble on unsteady feet

Fearing the press of a bell

Will not cement

Their departure at the correct stop

A tattoo parlour

With large red letters

Signals it’s soon

Time to get off

Arriving means it’s time to shop

But spending means many bags

Resulting in a compact journey home

With squashed knees and hands held tight

Stuck with concrete view

Overheard conversations

From those loudly indiscreet

Spouting petty personal gossip

While girls giggle

With blushed cheeks

Mums wielding prams battle for space

While a drunken man snores

Muttering under a stale beer breath

Finally seeing the church

Signals salvation

Home is near

Sighs of satisfaction

On departure

Saying the words

Never again

Yet I know the 163 will travel through my future

The journey from hell

Will always remain

By Katie Haigh


Stalker in Mind

Posted: May 4, 2017 in Uncategorized

Stalker in Mind

My nerves have been cut,

Their shredded and frayed.

I feel on edge,

I’ve been jittery for days.

My chest is so tight,

Twisted and wound.

I feel like I can’t breath,

But I don’t make a sound.

My skin is all tingly,

My heads cotton wool.

I wish I could break free,

But it’s powerful.

It’s like carrying a black cloud,

Over my head.

I feel like giving up,

Just going back to bed.

So I hang on tight,

Try to ride it through.

It’s my stalker.

What else can I do?

By Katie Haigh

copyright@K.Haigh 04/05/17

Photo by Katie Haigh


Hay Fever Spring

Posted: April 30, 2017 in Uncategorized

Napowrimo, Day 30 and it’s the final day, I did it! The prompt is to write a poem about something that happens again and again (kind of like NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo).

Hay fever Spring

So here it comes

The season of bloom

A rainbow of colours

Scattered among petals

Carried on the wind

Everything is full and lush

A variety of greens

Natural artistic beauty

Decorating the earth

But with Spring

Comes the seed

Carried and spread

By our friends the bees

But these seeds

Can itch, irritate and tickle

Make you sneeze

This season is fickle

You don’t know

How a new day will be

Is the pollen high

Will you be able to breath

We need this nature

For our world

But we just wish

Hay fever wasn’t unfurled


By Katie Haigh

copywrite@K.Haigh 30/04/17

Photo by Katie Haigh



Posted: April 29, 2017 in Uncategorized

Napowrimo, Day 29 and . Today’s prompt is to take one of your favourite poems and find a very specific, concrete noun in it. After you’ve chosen your word, put the original poem away and spend five minutes free-writing associations – other nouns, adjectives, etc. Then use your original word and the results of your free-writing as the building blocks for a new poem. I chose “Dulce et Decorum est” by Wilfred Owen. His poetry started by love of poetry at school.
Noun: Drowning

Associated words: Overwhelmed, suffocating, submerged, overpower, gasping, overcome, swallow up, engulf, swallow up, devour, can’t breath, panic, struggling, survival instinct, sinking.


Sinking into the deep,

A watery black hole engulfs her.

Her arms flap,

Trying to free herself,

As her lungs fill with water.

She gasps for breath,

Desperately trying to survive.

Her eyes are washed away with terror.

Her heart is racing,

So fast, she feels like it’ll explode.

She’s falling deeper and deeper,

She sees the light extinguish.

Her body becomes heavy,

As she lets go,

Accepts her fate.

No one is coming to save her.

She closes her eyes,

and let’s the darkness come.

By Katie Haigh

copywrite@K.Haigh 28/04/17

Photo by Katie Haigh


Napowrimo, Day 28 and the prompt is to write a Skeltonic VerseVerse are simple.

Keep the line lengths between three and six words.

Every end word rhymes with the last until you start a new set of rhymes

Keep the same rhyme until it starts to lose its energy/impact.

The poem should have energy and be fun.

The Unstable Mind of a Writer

How do I write,

When my head is so tight?

Try as I might,

The words are quite right.

Poetry is hard,

When my thoughts are scarred.

I’m in a literacy junkyard,

In need of a wordsmith lifeguard.

So I go with the flow,

Write what I know.

Where will my words go?

I dunno.

Maybe over rainbow,

Or to a whole new place,

Where words I’ll embrace.

Il discover my inner space,

And with poetry I’ll interface.

By Katie Haigh

copywrite@K.Haigh 28/04/17
Artwork by Ashleigh Haigh, age 16, Isabelle, age 10 and Lola, age 9