Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)
Bio
Hey hey! My name is Laura, and I like to write about things people don't want to write about.
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Stories (72/0)
Mr Prime Minister
Mr Prime Minster, how can you sleep, when the old are cold and children can't eat? Did your party really do their best, or was it the plan all along to ruin the NHS? Where's the money from Brexit is it spent? While nurses work double shifts but can't pay their rent. Waves of spikes have caused ripples of strikes, so don't get ill, because there's no point calling 999. The beds are full the train lines shut, how many more times will we say enough is enough? Brags about profits, but doesn't cough up, slash the funding and call it cuts.
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)2 months ago in Poets
Small Victories
The house is a mess god where do I begin? I let it happen again, I let it creep and slip in. There are no plates in the cupboards, there are spread across the sides, and the kitchen is the new landlord to the fruit flies. The cutlery has vanished and all the cups are gone, and the bins are full, but hey at least I managed to put a wash on.
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)3 months ago in Poets
The Shitty Table
Bah humbug, it's that time of year, when we spend more than we can afford and get pissed on cheap beer. Although I don't doubt it is merry for some, I myself find Christmas all too glum. I am the Grinch with a beating heart, a character at the table who plays their part.
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)3 months ago in Poets
One Moon, Two Suns, and a Red Sky
A pisces child born on a day of luck, dreaming of something but always stuck. The red cycle comes under the silver light, and manifesting in darkness comes the white. One moon, two suns and a red sky, I am back at home with tears in my eyes. I run and run as far as I can, but every time I go nowhere, nothing - no plan. I am bewitched and enchanted by the haze, a spell I know will never break. I cannot escape my broken mind, from the pain in my legs to that in my spine.
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)3 months ago in Poets
The Waiting Game
The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. She was not allowed to not look outside the window, she must never know the full truth. The world beneath was forbidden, poisoned, tainted and cruel, for a world so big so vast, for a delicate woman so small. A fair-faced child born out of the darkness, living a life of lies. How long will she wait for change? Until the day she dies?
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)3 months ago in Poets
Earth Without Art is Just Eh
Earth without art is just eh. Although art is subjective, it is universal. Art can transcend borders and defy cultural differences and language barriers. Art forces us to face the worst of humanity while helping us celebrate the best. We live in the moment, past and future when we consume art. Art is indiscriminate. Without art, everything would be boring and everyone would be naked.
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)3 months ago in FYI
Harry & Meghan: A Love Story Gone Wrong
Harry and Meghan's documentary dropped on Netflix this week, and my goodness we Brits have a lot to say about it. For the past twenty-four hours, my Twitter feed has been filled with the biggest H&M fans of them all - their haters. The U.K. love to hate and to see a member of the royal family, the pinnacle of absolute of Britishness, marry a biracial American woman...good God how dare he! Scandalous!
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)3 months ago in FYI
The Lost Gardens of Stourhead
ACT I Lottie was strolling the gardens of Stourhead. Social gatherings were something Lottie would actively avoid every time one would occur. She hated how her family, aunts, cousins, and uncles, would cramp into dark overcrowded rooms stuffed to the brim with terrible friends and horrible quiches. Rooms full of people she hardly knew, old faces she hardly recognised. Yet, was expected to talk to them as if they had been in her life every single day since her birth when of course, they hadn’t been. She knew they didn’t care what she said, what she did or what she looked like they were going to judge her regardless. She knew these gatherings were for bragging and not catching up. A competition for the most attention. She had wondered if they had realised she was absent and then concluded they probably hadn't noticed. They were all too busy talking about themselves. She, on the other hand, was a ghost of the living. Misguided and alone with a lot of unfinished business; victories to be won, and lessons to be learned in defeat.
By Laura-Jasmin Nuttall (Mama L)4 months ago in Fiction
