Karina Bush

Karina Bush is a poet who doesn\’t restrain her emotions when she spawns her pieces. If the mood of a poem travels to an extremely dark place or is consumed with light she will follow her muse – regardless of subject matter until her desired piece is written. I find that quality quite brave about her – because it genuinely means that there is no subject — no matter how awkward that she will not scribe. 

Karina also pushes the boundaries in terms of the content from her works – hopefully global exposure to her Karina\’s poems will break more barriers and make way for more female authors to genuinely be able to express themselves fully without prejudice with regards to the content.

Below, are a selection of pieces that were kindly provided to me from Karina – poems from her book Maiden which was published by 48th Street Press. When I grabbed my notebook to start
jotting notes – I\’d noticed the content of each poem obviously different with regards to the imaginarium it was cast in but; exactly the same in intensity. I have no idea how Karina did it – each one could stand on it\’s own individually without being part of any collection. When I first spoke to Karina, she told me that Maiden was written as a love story. And, judging from the poems she provided I am beginning to wonder if it is a love story of self and the journey we experience from the moment our innocence is shattered and we first discover sex. I started to think about Sex In The City as well as The Red Shoe diaries how their eclectic stories have a similar to feel to Karina\’s work (With the exception that Karina — I feel to be way more passionate as a writer – her work oozes a spitfire essence). Each little scene is riddled with not just lush imagery but honest poems which express: loss, joy, frustration, anger and in some instances hostility.

I\’ve requested a review copy of Maiden from 48th Street Press which should be here in the next few weeks. At this time, I do not think it\’s fair to write a complete review of Maiden when nearly 30 more poems are missing. I\’m honestly looking forward to sinking my teeth into the complete collection; nevertheless for now, here is a delicious appetizer for you all to appreciate and adore as much as I do.

A Girl’s Eyes

I’ll be shy
It will be my first time
I’ll cry
With a girl’s eyes
I’ll be tight
Need interred
Need your nerve
Then I’ll drive
Climb high
Show my vice 
Show my bite
Everything will come alive
Turn sublime
Some night

The Wettest Love 

I’m fucking his resistance
Every bit I felt
I fucked his jealousy best
The wettest love
Comes from there

In there
Is the man 
With no release
A grip to crawl for
On my blackened whore knees
From where I’ve been flung
I’m crawling home
To lick it better

Just Me

It’s just me
That’s all I need
Just me and the void
And my wound
And my hand
And my salve

I submit to myself
There is nothing else

Wounds heal tight
But my breath tonight
Is heavy
And my hand
And my salve
Are ready

This Morning

Done until I limped
Into the sun
Every man looked at me
So curious
I think they could smell me
Smell what he did
How I liked it
They wanted a bit

There was light in everything
Inner light – clear
Not normally visible
Like what I saw in him
My Prince
Light in the trees
Leaning in
They could smell me too
Raw like them
Raw as nature is


About to prowl
Watch me change
Eyes black – dilated
I can see more than is human
I can see you don\’t understand
What is about to happen

Spine erect
Then fluid
Sit still
Don\’t move
Don\’t touch me
You are not allowed 
And shut your mouth
I like the sound of you beating
I could snap through your breastplate
Eat the contents
I won\’t
I want you to survive
Just about

Take my hair

Take my hair
Like before
Take me into the woods
Drag me into the woods
I want to kiss you

Put me against that tree
Wet morning tree
Use your other hand now
I\’m helpless
Hand in my dress
Captured by a bad man
Nobody for miles
I\’m going to get molested
And leave my knickers there
For the perverts


I ate the apple
I let down my hair
I felt true love\’s kiss
From a Prince
Then the clock struck
The rats came
A wolf howled over
My naked dead body 
On a bathroom floor


If you are with a real man
You are at war 
A real woman knows
What roams their blood
Roams ours
The love 
The licking
When he licks my throat 
And shoulders
I\’m a kitten
Not a soldier

Tender Night

My lover’s 
Breathing body
Comes behind me
Twice my size 
Arm cross my breast
He is my maker
Skin cradled
Dressed in blankets
Made of rib
Gentle cells
In collapse
Locked and woven close
A design greater than us
He whispers
A wordless language 
From an eyeless place

I walk 

Magnet to musk
I will taste the nectar
The juice is dark
In its sweetness I will be Eve
I will become perfume
As he injects
Eyes roll back 
In peace 
Bound in the mercy I granted

Thanks to Karina for also furnishing me with a little bit of information about herself…

Karina is an Irish poet. Her first book \’Maiden\’, a collection of poetry, was published by \’48th Street Press\’ in 2016. Her second book \’50 euro\’, a collection of prose and poetry set in Amsterdam\’s Red Light District, will be published by \’BareBack Press\’ in 2017. For more visit karinabush.com or follow her on Instagram @karinabushxx 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: