Awards and Publications
Causley Trust
Runner up
International poetry competition 2022
Comments from Head Judge Seán Hewitt:
A prose poem of blistering imagery, using the personal like a lightning rod to channel a vision of racial injustice and beauty standards, this is a text that handles an emotional and political core with skill.
Korean bleach
google says that if you have brown skin and you want to turn it white then you can buy this cream from korea , so i bought this cream from korea . it came in a green package i didn’t understand the instructions but i assumed the more i used the whiter i’d become , why did i want to be white ? my mother is white and all the people around me playing tennis were white and Zora Neal Hurston says ‘ we feel most coloured when we are thrown against a sharp white background ’ and i was living in a white world where i stood out and it wasn’t just my skin it was the shape of my body strong and defined long flat feet hair wild shoulders broad . the girls around me were mostly blonde with small bodies and arches in their ballerina feet petite , i tried so many things to fit in with them straightening my hair not eating talking like them staying out of the sun wearing little clothes and shoes that were too small but i was nothing like them and it hurt . the day i made this purchase i remember because my tennis coach called me a nigga after i missed three balls in the net i had barely any money at the time but i paid extra for express shipping this had to be quick because i had to be white .
when the potion came it fucked me raw raping the melanin away from my skin screaming so loud no one could hear me . i am silent after this i am silent . after this i am just waiting i don’t know what i am waiting for for but it’s not here . it’s still not here yet .
My home in transit
I’m sat in the window seat of an aeroplane looking out at the clouds and the sky; it feels meditative. Often I find myself here. Somewhere that’s nowhere. I’ve been on the go for a while now. Sometimes life tells us we need to grow up before we even know what that means. I worry whether my friends will still be my friends if I grow up too quickly? They don’t have to grow up as quick as me, but I watch them try. I listen to them chatter about boys and drinking, drugs they have tried recently, parties they’re going to on the weekend. They don’t invite me anymore because they know I’ll be away, again, far away most likely. It’s all a lot, but it’s only for now I tell myself. One day I’ll be normal just like them.
More publications
London Institute of Medical Science
https://stories.lms.mrc.ac.uk/elisha-gabb/index.html
Wildfire Anthology: Elisha Gabb