Bibi June as a poet, spoken word performer and theatre maker based in Glasgow. Their collection Begin Again was the first book to be featured in our subscription service.
Bibi Co-founded In The Works with Ross McFarlane. In the works is a theatre company that has gone on to produce a range of different spoken word shows. Such as A Matter of Time (2017) and The 900 club (2018). Both of which were taken to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival with The 900 Club receiving 5 star reviews during its revival for the festival in 2019.
Spoon
You used to learn yourself.
Mirrors showed you universes
and you never stopped looking.
Crawled out of your crib,
wondering who you were
before why or where.
Shooting stars
are rocks on fire
falling through the sky.
Remember when that used to baffle you?
You didn’t eat your food yesterday
too busy staring into your spoon.
There was a time
when you didn’t need to love yourself,
when your body carried you through your dark days.
I could carry you now
so easily.
While I was making wishes upon stars
you were counting them.
Counting your steps backwards.
Counting how bright you burn.
You learned we are all stardust
and wished to return
Weightless
like
an astronaut
Who
needs
to be
reacquainted with gravity
When it was time to come home
you fell from the sky
into the ocean.
Built yourself an island,
crawled out of the sea
and called it evolution.
How did you get so tall?
Is it illusion
of width and depth?
Do you love yourself yet?
I am stardust too,
all wobble and human.
You know that, right?
This body needs nurture,
not love, trust me.
I have loved myself so much.
Now I just walk
praise my feet
for where they take me
not what they did to get me there.
You are not done learning.
But you can stop burning
so that others will see beauty.
If the universe is the closest
we can get to infinity,
surely you must know
how small you are?
Are you trying to implode?
Become a supernova?
I wouldn’t blame you,
or the universe,
or the stars,
but I’d miss you,
still.
Sometimes
We live fantastical lives.
The kind you couldn’t
dream up.
Eighteen, wondering
what life will be
in all its complexity.
We’ve changed from humans into beings.
Someone’s someone,
sometimes.
We’re here for each other,
sometimes.
We lose sight of ourselves
for a while.
Talk people into being lighthouses
It’s not just your light
that makes me happy.
It’s all of the rough cuts
of our lifetimes.
We chop our hair off
because it feels right
and find solutions
to sad breakups.
You like to pick berries,
to make life look like a movie
and I’m okay with that.
I told you to shut up
but we still talk,
sometimes.
It’s what we call friendship
and we get to decide
how we do this.
We’re not the kind to stick to tradition.
It’s a sad thing,
but I like it.
Sometimes,
finding new roads we can take
makes us feel whole.
Sometimes,
we wander around at night
too far away from our beds to feel tired.
Sometimes
we dance.
Sometimes
we are movie stars
and astronauts
and pill takers.
Most days,
we are ourselves
wishing we were others.
Most days,
yesterday seems like
the distant future
like a movie.
Sometimes,
we are happy