Philippa Bowe

Philippa Bowe

@philippabowe.bsky.social

Flash fiction, poetry, translation, in English/en français. Published online and in print (Ghost City Press, NFFR, Reflex Fiction, Bath Flash Fiction, Spark2Flame, Neither Fish Nor Foul, The Hooghley Review). Pushcart Prize nom. Dance, LFC, la belle vie.

1,183 Followers 884 Following 1,262 Posts Joined Nov 2024
12 hours ago

Oh Paul that's terrible, I'm sorry. And glad that she is doing brilliantly despite that trauma. 🙏

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4 days ago

Oh no, hope she's okay. I don't know any women who haven't been affected in some way, and usually starts when you're a child...

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4 days ago

Ha! Jumping the gun my friend....we'll see what happens next Sunday. 😆🤞

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4 days ago

What a lovely lovely piece Dawn, the joy and thrill of new life! ✨

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4 days ago

Love love love this piece, you multi-talented (and modest) person you! 🤩💜

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4 days ago
Preview
Siri as Mother Were you hoping for a myth?

Today's #LiftToTheSky: this poem by Hala Alyan, 'I’ve begun creating a series of pieces calling upon mothering and care as consolation for the larger ways that we feel societally and communally bereft and unattended to.'
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

poets.org/poem/siri-mo...

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4 days ago

Love these - surreal and noir, perfect mix! 💫

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6 days ago
Arrows

You watch me undress
even though you can’t really see me
because my body is a ruin
and I have vanished under the rubble.

I am writhing under your eyes
which might as well be crosshairs,
palpitating in this animal carcass
that takes up too much space.

Bits and pieces of me scatter everywhere
like dead skin cells or eyelashes,
tiny insignificant things you can wish on
but that never come true.

This is how I mark my territory,
in chewed off fingernails and stray hair bands,
careless words and stuttered apologies,
sacred beads of spit and blood. 

This is where I have come to love and to haunt.
This is where I will raise a little church.
But you can’t really see me now
because I’ve gone inside to pray.

I am building nests
on branches that can’t hold me.
And my spine curves like the bent neck of a deer
bowing before the hunter’s gun. 

Like it is trying to tell you something secret. 
Like it wants to bridge an enormous gap. 

You only come to watch me unravel
so you can hide in the cracks. 

I am but a bird
in the palm of your hand.
Just one little twist of your fingers
to break its brittle bones. 

You will only really see me
once you dare to lift off the burial shroud 
and find out that the crumpled cerecloth 
once upon a time
was a wing.

Late but here is my submission for #PoemsAbout #BeingWatched ✨

for @thebrokenspine.co.uk
& @alanparrywriter.co.uk

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5 days ago

'Cyanide sweetness' is such a fabulous image! 🌟

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5 days ago

Yup! That's what came and I decided not to shy away from it....

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5 days ago

Thanks Merril! 🙏

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5 days ago

Okay so what's a worm moon? And I'm a big lucid dream person. I also have dreams that carry for a while once I'm awake, quite mad! 😆

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5 days ago

...try Only Poems to start with maybe? And yes rejection is so hard. I think it's good to remember it's always a lottery and that just being brave enough to put your work out there is a big big achievement. 🌟

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5 days ago

Wow what a breath-taking poem!! So so rich, impossible to pick out a favourite image, they are too many stunners! I felt a sensation of finding strength in the face of an oppressive force. Agree with the others about submitting it: there are tons of excellent journals out there....

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5 days ago

Oh Beth I'm so sorry you're having to deal with this fucker. And glad you can convey it in poetry. 🙏

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6 days ago

Compelling as ever John, even though I find it hard to read about the kill no matter how ´natural'! I really like the journey from a picture of the outdoor world to the inside of the narrator's head, the lucid dream. 🌟

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1 week ago
Black box with a poem in white writing:

                               watched

 
get your fucking
eyes off me –
or I’ll tear them out

This week's #PoemsAbout prompt, #BeingWatched, was pretty triggering for me - think it shows in my response.
Happy Friday poets! 💜
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

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1 week ago

Yeees! That last line is, sadly, such a perfect description of today's digital world... 🙁💫

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1 week ago

Oh Merril, I'm so sorry you've lost your sister. What a beautiful poem you have written while thinking of her. 💜

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1 week ago

Thank you Merril! Repetition can be such a instrument of musicality, right? 🙏

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1 week ago

Ooh I'd love to read some of it! The very first thing I ever had published was an article on that second summer of love/London acid house scene (1988 I think) in a minor newspaper in Sydney where I spent a few months...🙂

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1 week ago

So many striking images here! I particularly enjoyed the conversation at the very end, hope and despair in the face of the unmovable stone. 💫

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1 week ago

Agree about poem Friday. And what a wonderfully powerful and dark piece, that killer last line! 💫

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1 week ago
Painting: an abstract watercolor, painted in a loosely round composition, suggestive of a winter landscape; palette includes sepia, Payne’s grey, and other colors

Quiet Season ~ #BlueSkyArtShow #round #eastcoastkin #abstract #abstractpainting #Abstractwatercolor #abstractlandscape #Landscapepainting #Traditionalart #fineart #watercolor #intuitivepainting #painting

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1 week ago

Thanks Jan - I seem to often write stuff these days drawing on the clubbing years, no idea why! 😆🙏

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1 week ago

You're so welcome!

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1 week ago

Ah thanks John, hope they didn't keep you awake! 🙏

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1 week ago
Photo of the inside of a nightclub with people's dancing hands silhouetted holding drink and cigarettes. Overlaid with a poem in orange letters:

nightlife

 
I lie on the pavement
no spirit left to me
I left it all –
in the dark where the
light drips off the
glitter ball
in the furnace
of weekend bodies
heat-seeking parts
in the thud
of relentlessly irresistible beats
I gave it my all
I shed
I moved and shook and ground
consumed every bit
drunk to the dregs
of the night –
and here I am
spent
and here I am
stupid and happy

Love ending a crazy busy week with a nice little #PoemsAbout hookup. And enjoyed the #Spent prompt. Happy Friday/weekend poets! 💜
@thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk

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1 week ago

This is so sweet and sad and a lovely evocation of that moment when age meets youth, lovely! 💫

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1 week ago

Love this sunrise personification so much! 💫

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