Your One Phone Call

I’ve been a bit slow with updating this blog with little poems I’ve had published here and there, so I thought I’d do a mini one now!

A few months ago, Your One Phone Call published two of my poems on their website – ‘My Place’ and ‘Sun Burn’. You can read them through these links.

Working on bigger projects has meant that I haven’t had as much time to send off smaller pieces to anthologies and web journals. And there’s a few places that have requested bits and pieces from me and I still haven’t quite completed them, argh! But still, there are a few upcoming little pieces to expect from me in the next few months in The Hungry Chimera, Lungs, and Magma – among others. I’m particularly thrilled about Magma! They’re one of the top poetry magazines in the UK, and whilst I’ve been shortlisted before I never knew if I’d actually make it into an issue. And now I’ve done it! Woohoo!

to do

Right – back to work on the novel (I’m DEFINITELY doing a post sometime soon about the massive task of doing the first edit. I had no idea how long it would take to even look through a single chapter!) and my next poetry collection. Not to mention editing the White Noise & Ouija Boards Anthology, doing edits from WoMentoring, finishing up my science fiction series for Shoreline of Infinity

So much to do, so little time.





Ok, so I’m not particularly pirate-y, but I like to think that I might be a rogue in my own particular way. This month I’ve been published by Picaroon Poetry, a magazine especially for poets of the roguish sort. I’m honoured to be read as dangerous enough, as usually I feel as edgy as a satsuma.


You can read my poem ‘Pigeon English’ over on the Picaroon website.


Pankhearst Fresh – Pestle and Mortar


My poem Pestle and Mortar was the Fresh Poem of the week on the Pankhearst Blog today. Here’s the link!

Pestle and Mortar

Making it be, herb by herb
and crafting laughter
sown from buds of wilted ends
(either for lovers or for friends),
no sparks or smokes
but a burnt ring, brown and thin
like vintage tin
– firing –
blanking up a part of brain
and abruptly forgetting my own name.

Blindly grinding down choices
tough enough
to be conscious,
to invent that consequence,
so when I’m winding the weeds
there’s no skill spent with ill intent.

Inspiring visions to inward grow
reveal the raw thinking flows
from vein to lung to nose
to song sung out
as white silent shout
in need to make luck and give –
isn’t that sought by all who live?

© Caroline Hardaker 2015

This one came from a call out from a different publisher exploring myth, the other, magic. I hold these themes quite close to my heart anyway, I feel like I spend half of my life steeped in some sort of fantastical view of the world. I do think fables and myths are so ultimately universal that they resonate with lives spanning hundreds of years. They address core principles of humanity, such as morality, escapism, longing, to the very darkest of indulgences.

Thank you Pankhearst. I don’t think I’ve seen the last of you quite yet. 😉