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Category: :Poets

Fugitive images partially imagined, artificially connected

14th September 202114th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Sam Smith

looking out from a cliff-path’s shade of sycamore’s salt-browned leaves a blue water day, fly-crawling summer itches waves winking white the slanted sails of single hulls keeled over one catamaran flat to slapping water sails

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window-watched

14th September 202114th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Sam Smith

lines of drizzle march up the green-sided valley past black cows browsing the grass-nobbled hillsides past drenched sheep in pairs pressed into heather-topped scrapes past five ewes in a line alongside the flat base of

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Behind the mask, closed mouth disapproval

14th September 202114th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Sam Smith

A presence in the mind watches fools gather together cheering one another on in their foolishness. A sky-floating, slip-sliding flock of jackdaws comes down to roost, much as a new thought seeks a place to

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Sea Swim in May

13th September 202113th September 2021Beth Brooke

The promise of cool salt sting as we undress. Shingle underfoot, I hobble to the water’s edge, inch forward painfully until the wave wash pulls the pebbles under me and I stumble in. The shock

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Song

13th September 202113th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Beth Brooke

At the place where the land ended, we stood, hands clasped, drawn by the salt spray, and found there was nothing we could do but whisper the ocean into existence. We let words pour out

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Autumn Equinox

13th September 202114th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Beth Brooke

Crane flies hang from the door lintel, dangle their cotton-thread legs in my face; they appear as if from nowhere, have secret business. They seem immune to the spiders’ webs strung out to trap them,

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Strontium Story

13th September 202113th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Beth Brooke

A thousand years from now they will open my mouth and my bones will sing the story of my life, how I was a traveller, a rider of sea and air a walker of dunes

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Fetching Things

13th September 202113th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Sue Finch

This note is to tell you you must go on a journey. You need to fetch for her: • An elephant’s tear though it will evaporate in your stoppered tube. • A pinch of clay

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Hanging On

13th September 202113th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Sue Finch

I was certain the rungs were wooden sure of the rope that had me swinging. Why else was I thinking so much of the grip of past climbers and the dirt pushed into the twists

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Last Night I Dreamt I Slid My Poems into Drawers of Disinfectant to Sterilise Their Titles

13th September 202113th September 2021:Poetry, :Poets, Sue Finch

Today a poet in black stands at a lectern reading us her words. At the end she straightens her pages says she wants to sing for us. Feet together, shoulders back, she begins. Her eyes

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