This week, as Spring blooms and restrictions change, we’ve been thinking on the subject of returning – for better or worse.

New poetry by Daniela Elizarraras Acitores

Every year around Christmas time
the whales arrive.

All the way from Canada, 
they say. 

The cold current is their highway, 
a highway I get a view of.

Some pass by alone,
but others with friends
and most of all they pass with babies.

Baby whales that are on their first migration.

Every morning at mid day and sunset
they make their appearance on the horizon.
  
Some are shy, and only say hi once...

But others are playful, 
jumping and performing;
a show that we all watch with amaze.

Some are breathers, 
taking loads of breaths before their final dive.
While others take one, 
and simply disappear.

I became the “whale watcher”
since I tend to spot them first. 

I spot their breath and 
the water pattern they make.

Sometimes they seem happy, 
but other times…
they seem on a mission.

Every year, 
no matter how much life changes for me
they still pass through.

They are my constant.   

I hope they always come, 
Because who knows?

Who knows?

Who knows if they will one day not return, 
more when 150 species go extinct each day.

But I will keep looking at the horizon, 
And I will wave goodbye as they pass by.

If they can be my constant I will be theirs too. 

Returning Back to Exams – New Writing from George Wainwright

It is now the twenty-sixth of april, I say. My deep, blue eyes squinting at the long white clock in my bedroom. I could not believe the date. The clock’s sharp hands pointing towards me and reminding me that I should not procrastinate and should start work. Time is slipping. Time is ticking. I always remind myself as my fingers prick against my clean, white IKEA desk that I recently bought since returning to my home city. I sit in silence. The skeleton-like trees now blooming with greenery and thick blossoms. It is now the time that I have now been dreading. We are now nearing the end of the academic year. This idea makes my body immediately buzz with anxiety. It has only been a moment since September. The beginning of the academic year. I could remember the days when I would study after going to the gym at a nearby cafe. And then study again at home. I was motivated. I was alive. The world was my oyster. I now think of those times – nostalgic. But I must look towards the future. We must look towards the future. We are now returning to the times of the end of the academic year, towards our exams and our assignment deadlines, which we have been so used to since GCSE’s. Remember those days? I certainly do! When I used to pray before I sat my English Literature Macbeth exam which was on a monday morning. When I would wake up at 4AM to revise Macbeth quotes and then hop on an hour-and-a-half bus ride towards my school. Now I think towards that time as I am now returning towards a similar time. I remember how productive I was during that time. These exams open more doors, my religious education teacher once said. They do open more doors. As I approach and return back to the day of exam season, I am now thinking of many ways to be productive. The problem is that I cannot do it. I can be lazy, unproductive and unmotivated at times. Now I am trying to adopt a new outlook on life. These exams can potentially open more doors in my life and I think it’s time to start a new slate as a return. A more productive slate, I say to myself as I chew the end of my pencil that a friend had given me. I think towards the future. I think towards my future. I think of returning. Returning back to my exams. 

New Poetry by Charlotte Kwong

‘Nothing is certain but death and taxes’


Barge of death
Sails gently downstream
Hooded figure
Lies in wait
To claim their prize
Another soul
And one more
These tortured souls
Will float forever
In the river, Styx

New Writing by Jessica Taft

The first day of spring is not a day I thought I could count on but when spring arrived on Saturday my body was ignited with Joy. 

As the snowdrops and daffodils escape the confines of the soil to bask in the spring glow, my skin alights with relief to see the end of the long winter season. 

No longer are the animals hidden in hobby holes to waste away the cold, slowly they awake opening one eye and then the other. Oh to be a bird or a deer in the spring, to see life in its all encompassing joy and to feel the warmth of the sun as if the icy months ceased to exist. 

Without the cold I would be oblivious. I wouldn’t know the struggle to find beauty in the dull. On the darkest and dreariest of days I know that if I look for signs of life in the crystals I will find a robin surviving the cold alongside me, protecting its land and bringing colour to the blank space.

Robin and I miss the liveliness of their companions, though they are bound by duty I know they would also knock on the doors of their friends to just triple check they can’t say hello, before they resign to their post to keep watch on the snow.

When spring dawns on the 20th March, Robin and I keep watch as the snow melts away and the grass glistens in the light. They spot their neighbour they haven’t seen December coming over the horizon after their vacation in the tropics. 

Soon Robin leaves me elated for some friends. What’s left is my own transformation from bud to blossom.

A letter by Katie Biddle

Dear whoever feels hopeless and naive in these trying times,

Rule of 6, and household requirements are not something we have ever had to consider before March 2020; now it is the light at the end of the very long, windy, confusing tunnel we have all been walking through with a blindfold on. Everything is still ‘up in the air’ but as March 29th fast approaches it feels safe and not disheartening to assume we can go on walks, picnics and bike rides with the group of friends you have only seen through a pixelated zoom call quiz for the past 6 months or even year. Not everyone feels comfortable with the new rules imposed on us and many feel they are still unfair- i would say i am somewhere in the middle. Out of all the lockdowns, this one was particularly hard for me in terms of socialising with friends and even strangers. The cold weather and dark evenings mixed in with uni classes have left me and many others feeling isolated and at times in a dark place with no hope. With vaccines and rapid testing happening in the now, I can’t help but look to these dates Boris has laid out for us and feel hopeful, but very much realistic, to the rest of 2021. 

The question mark remains at the end of socialising as nothing is certain and i’ve learnt the hard way taking the maybe as a definite. Maybe I am naive or perhaps just hopeful, hopeful for the future and hopeful for tomorrow. Meeting up with my friends isn’t going to cure my loneliness, but it will make it feel lighter and less overwhelming. I have to ask myself why I feel like this. Why do I think going outside with more than one person will make me feel better? Why am I refusing any more online dates with my friends as we can just see each other next week? Why aren’t I just living in the moment? These are the things I am asking myself, but I have not a single answer for any. I have become stubborn in light of freedom and I think I’m in need of a reality check. I have a privilege to be here when so many have not been so lucky, and I have a privilege to be able to be hopeful. 

So again i reiterate the sentiment of what is to return- socialising…?

From someone who is feeling overwhelmed with privilege and a stubborn inability to reality check themselves.. 

Nia Reynold on exams

Every year around April, the ever daunted exam season arrives. Preparation, revision, assignments deadlines – all clustered together in the span of one month. We write, we stress, we type, we focus, we email, we cry, we submit. Then it’s gone for another year and faithfully returns just when we start to regain composure again.

‘Dear Universe’ – New Poetry by Rebecca Harding

Waiting for the letter that never came.
Wondered if it got lost, ended up on someone else's floor, stamped on, drooled on by a white yapping dog. 
Wondered if it got sent to Bermuda, and it was resting on the pink sand beaches, about to be swept away by waves.
Wondered if the postman stole it, sold it on eBay for the price of a breath. 
Wondered if you ever wrote it,
Wondered if it was sent...


Waiting for the words of whispers, of dust to be sprinkled on paper. 
Just so it can blow away 
like dandelion seeds on a summer day.
Wondered if the words were clouded in smoke and now there is nothing left to say.
Wondered if the ink was invisible
and you were smiling from the clouds.
Wondered if you could write it
or if your hand drowned... 

Waiting to come back home to you,
but I'm - stuck -  in a black hole, not sure about my address...
maybe you can guess.
Waiting for the letter that never came.
Wondering if I should write one back and just write out your name.

Return of the Drag Scene – New Writing by Stella Nahr

After a long year of lockdowns and closed bars and venues, the drag scene is finally starting to wake up again. Shows and competitions are getting planned and even though most events are about 2 months away, it still feels good to know that there will be something on. In the past months the only possible way to perform was to participate in an online show, either via Zoom, Youtube link or Instagram livestream. Even though performing online can’t compete with being on stage, it was still better than nothing and could at least give you a small glimpse of what it was like to be at an actual drag show. 

The covid situation hit the nightlife industry especially hard as clubs have been closed for over a year now, bars are usually one of the last things to reopen and even if they are, you have to sit on a table, not able to move freely and talk to the drag artists, which is half the fun of a show. Many full time drag performers have been struggling over the past year and even though over summer/autumn there was a small gap of certain venues being open (with ridiculous restrictions, nowadays you have to order a pizza to see your favorite drag queen perform) that didn’t make up for the past months without any gigs or income. 

The drag scene has been on pause for too long now and artists struggle not only financially. A big part of the nightlife drag scene is the fact that you get the chance to express yourself artistically and connect with other queer people. I miss the sense of community, where everyone lifts each other up and makes them feel welcome. I miss the excitement before going on stage, the thrill of performing and the applause after. I miss seeing everyone’s performances and looks and making new friends every time I go out.  

A lot of venues had to close forever during lockdown, but also new queer spaces have opened and new shows and brunches are getting put on. Now’s the time for new ideas to emerge as everything is getting planned and reopened. In the close future you’re hopefully able to attend events without worrying about covid restrictions. The whole scene is more than ready to welcome the new London queer nightlife!