Rosie Allabarton

- Writer

I Pinned A Shark To Your Chest

Prague
Rosie Allabarton is a poet and short story writer who lives in Berlin. She has had her work published in various online and print magazines as well as literary anthologies. She completed Birkbeck's Creative Writing MA in 2011 before running away to Germany where she lives happily in a flat the size of a matchbox.

She is currently working on her first collection of poetry and a selection of short stories.
Words from Rosie

  • I am not a runner

    Written on 02/12/12

    but as I lie on my side waiting for sleep to come because nothing else has for the longest of times, it's like I've been running I am on... read more

  • En route to Tempelhofer Feld

    Written on 02/12/12

    his engine stuttered and failed, like he'd come too soon right there in the street. My mother's dress, fresh from the hospital billowed around my knees, the traffic- breeze circled us... read more

  • Valentine's Day

    Written on 03/12/12

    We pushed two single beds together and you wrote on the photo that I had died of alcohol poisoning a beer clutched to my chest or a broken heart as shards of glass poked through... read more

  • For a moment's peace

    Written on 03/12/12

    In a bid for a moment's peace you came. And on the train I was left to confront my fear of long poems and family reunions by reading Frank O' Hara under your steady gaze; unable to... read more

  • Horse

    Written on 03/12/12

    My hair was a crown and I was a horse as you walked past the house and I galloped across the road. Hooves against glass I peered through the café window, only to see us eating... read more

  • Two Islands

    Written on 03/12/12

    Round English vowels stuck to the ceilings of mouths. Forgotten and remembered; intermittently taken hostage by the rise and fall of Denmark sliding down steamy kitchen tiles.Little... read more

  • August Birthday

    Written on 03/12/12

    The snow had fallen over the airport and still fell as we walked; the bikes abandoned bent lovingly in pairs at the station their backs to the wind. We, the odd couple, not bent at... read more

  • London Fields Lido

    Written on 03/12/12

    Occupying cold air Branches shaped like the outstretched hands of a man Reaching for something He can't quite Reach Almost meet. Nodding Long knotted torsos bow Against a back-drop... read more

  • Murder

    Written on 03/12/12

    There have only been waking states; holding the morning back with my hands holding the curtains closed against thick light that becomes so easily thin and frayed at the edges.... read more