Joanne Tedds

- Experiments with a faceless profile.

Subject to Change

The Same Story
Joanne is a writer, poet, librarian, quiz mistress and storyteller. She has been writing and performing for a number of years but has recently decided to tackle a large (and self-motivated) writing project. This project aims to explore the fragility of memory, the intrusion of audience, the normalcy of sordidness and the complicated coping methods employed to deal with the aforesaid.

In the between, Jo writes ditties and poems about the things that kiss and cross her heart.

She is here because she would like to share extracts and chunks and slithers and because she would love to continue the conversation or, even start a new one with you.

Thanks for passing by,
Until the future,

Jo xx
Words from Joanne

  • Wailing

    Written on 18/07/10

    Look at me My face red, adamant, Refusing to bruise or swell Someone I once knew well Used to call it whaling Strange, to know well once Time passes, Change hands out new... read more

  • One for Will

    Written on 30/03/10

    So inspired was I today, that after reading some of Mister Conways words when wired to the web that I started thinking like him - like - in that very distant resemblance sorta way and not... read more

  • Truly happy

    Written on 28/03/10

    She admits the truth to her self Glad that the chapter is changing The girl that stood behind the railings Is now in the street dancing Embittered only... read more

  • Water Falls

    Written on 28/03/10

    I saw four dead pigeons in one waterfall The children gazed then played With nothing Or little to say Changing focus and attention and direction ... read more

  • Sprung

    Written on 28/03/10

    As light slowly laps the floorboards, How wonderful it would be To soak up sunshine Drench every cloth and rag With the brightness Squeeze it ... read more

  • Ipso Facto

    Written on 17/02/10

    Ipso Facto Home is where I'm not, Racing pylon lines and hedgerows, I watch, as an occasional barn, House or tractor Smudge passed Like lipstick lost on glass ... read more

  • Excerpt from: One Broken Shoe

    Written on 16/02/10

    Reluctant tears spill from my eyes. They roll off my face and turn the dusty khaki of my top into a dark brown. It looks like wet cement. Coming back to it, I ponder the inaccuracies... read more

  • Sickness (Good Grief)

    Written on 07/02/10

    Sickness I feel sick and twisted, And sort of confused. I want to run near to nowhere, But I don’t think I can move. ... read more