Benjamin Evans - Author

This the short story that I submitted for my open university course, which has been described by my tutor as a 'magical and quirky' and 'reminiscent of the Witches of Eastwick.' Here it is anyway: The Single Vicars Club For ten years of my life I was an angel. You know - a proper angel with blond hair, perfect white skin and pink virginal lips, sent by God to do His work on earth. I don’t know why God chose me in particular. I know He works in ways we don’t understand. Maybe it was because I spent a lot of time alone. Maybe it was because my mother was dead and my father barely noticed I was alive. Maybe it was because I was smart and I would know what he wanted me to do. Or maybe it was because I was fifteen years old, had slept with over a hundred men and had never felt anything for any of them. Yes, yes I think that’s probably what it was. Why do I think this? Because the work that God wanted me to do didn’t require his usual recruits, like charity workers or clean c

Yes, that was the exercise. A poem with alliteration on every line written about love for an object. Very trying, but it did mean that I got to let out some more confessions about the concerning relationship between my bike and I. Love on Two Wheels - A Poem Clunk clunk clunk Shifts will shank and slip Click click click Barings bounce and break Squeaal. Squeaaal. Pads rasp on rim Scratch, scratch. Saddle scrapes my crotch Handles hammer hands Wheelarch rakes the thigh Pedals pummel my shin You’re unreliable as a rat Painful as a piercing You hurt and harangue me, You make my stomach sick Yet my bike, my beau I love you For all the hurt and the pain When we pedal the peaks, We speed and fly on the freeway You make me live and laugh; Clamour and acclaim. We journey, one organ, one person. We join together, cycle and soul We are welded Amalgamated A bond unbreakable That’s why you are more Than a painting or

Hello all Its poetry time on the Creative Writing Course. I am dothing my beret and will go and sit in the nearest field, just when it stops raining and/or being freezing. So far it has proved a mixed bag. I have written a poem while listening to music (exercise 12.3) which went well, and i have written a poem about a cow (exercise 12.5), which was awful. I will share the former if you don't mind. The Lake The plain of your stomach Still and serene as a mountain lake I kiss the top of the water A ripple up your body A breath of air sounds above me Leaves rustle in recognition The waters lap against my face Warm and soft like the womb I want to dive in Submerge myself in blue syrup Fill my pores with your touch Mix my body with you You urge me down deeper Until i can see or feel no other The world is blue, is you I am blue. I am the water. So that was written while listening to Tender by Blur interestingly enough. Okay its not perfect, but its a start. Next assignment - a poem with