The Invisible Girl

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Lockdown will probably be one of the defining words of 2020. I know I am fortunate to live with family I adore, pets who reduce stress, and neighbours who will converse from a suitably distant position on the other side of the (high) garden fence. In fact, I wonder what will happen when things return to something which we may consider more ‘normal’. My natural setting is to avoid social contact. I have to steel myself to leave the house, and then it tends to be to take our son to one of his regular activities. I could get too used to having to avoid people generally.

Today’s post is an opportunity to share something with you. Late last year, I entered the annual National Poetry competition. The deadline coincided with a rush of creativity, and I crafted a piece specifically for the purpose of entering. The poem seeks to describe the internal mechanisms of someone who avoids social contact. Somebody who would rather not be seen. Someone whose internal dialogue helps to maintain their mental acuity when they do venture out.

Earlier this month, I found out that my poem had been longlisted in the final 125 entries. It didn’t make the top ten, but still, I was absolutely over the Moon to have been noticed. I know, there’s a contradiction here; the words are about someone who does not want to be noticed. And yes, the words are written by me, about me. Or, rather, a facet of me. And it is for her that I am especially proud. In some ways, it legitimises the nature of her being.

I’m still amazed that ‘The Invisible Girl’ was read and appreciated, so please allow me this moment:

  • 16,659 entries
  • 6,979 poets
  • 87 countries
  • Entries from every EU member state

All poems were read anonymously by the judges.

Now for the hard part, sharing my words. This is something which I am used to doing through open mic sessions. But at those nights of spoken word, the poems may be scrutinised in the moment, but not revisited. When written, or recorded, the words can be visited time and time again.

Most of what I write is what I’d term performance, rather than page, poetry. Or perhaps a hybrid of the two. Wherever it falls, and however it is categorised, I decided to record this piece. The equipment and video editing software is basic, but here it is: ‘The Invisible Girl’.