Birdsmith I had to make a false leg for the toucan from a strong brass spring, to take the shock of landing, the first and fourth toes turned backwards for grip. I saw from the way the bird regarded me, beak cocked to one side, that it was grateful. My next project a throat-pouch for … Continue reading ‘Birdsmith’ by Judi Sutherland
Author: And Other Poems
Two poems by Jane Commane
Seven Horse Secrets The horse’s heart is a grand mansion of piston-firing chambers. A horse sees a world blurred in the two-tone flourish of the photo finish. Look into the amber planet of a horse’s eye and a refracted universe forms there. Horses turn the turf of an ever-moving, never-quite-touched earth beneath their hooves. … Continue reading Two poems by Jane Commane
Two poems by Stephen Boyce
Marking the Place The red route of the A5 lies across the pages of our life like a silk ribbon marking the place: Betws, honeymoon rained off; Wrexham snowed in, out of work, in love, you fixing the roof at Llanarmon; Bridgnorth, changing nappies in a lay-by; the chiropractor cracking bones in Shrewsbury. … Continue reading Two poems by Stephen Boyce
Two poems by Aviva Dautch
Ghazal after Agha Shahid Ali Beloved, I fear the language of shame is Hebrew. Once loss was all, now loss is hard to frame in Hebrew. Yours is the well from which my sorrow springs, your water, but the earth that steals the rain is Hebrew. With you I have railed at the shuttered … Continue reading Two poems by Aviva Dautch
Three poems by Allison McVety
Going back to Charlotte Street I clock them often on the stairs, in the space between lost and borrowed. They’re flanked by a parlour – reserved for the dead, where only the boy with the telegram dares to knock – and a scullery alive with black-market crops. She stops on the half-landing, buffs her … Continue reading Three poems by Allison McVety
A poem by Davina Allison
Heloise at the Oratory For M i. Matins I have been a long time here, my love, hands thin on the dry scrape of winter, still in its habit of pinning the hours in a trace of ice as blue-lipped and weary as bird bones. Do you remember? The spill of morning along … Continue reading A poem by Davina Allison
‘The Ever Changing Dot’ by Roger Robinson
For Stuart Hall There’s an idea, an image in the centre of your forehead a dot, much like a bindi of the mind. As you talk from your lectern, images project on the white wall behind, sodden with meaning, changing as you speak. Look now at the black athlete on the podium. Deeply veined … Continue reading ‘The Ever Changing Dot’ by Roger Robinson
Two poems by Anthony Wilson
Teaching Writing Theory after Jaan Kaplinski On Tuesday I discovered if my cancer had returned. Later I discussed teaching writing to six-year-olds. We spun our arms like windmills, then made chopstick-motions with our fingers mirroring the motor control functions we daily take for granted even less think about as we stare at the … Continue reading Two poems by Anthony Wilson
Three poems by Lamorna Elmer
Recovery We’re sitting on a park bench comparing slacks and loafers (ankles). The coffee’s black, obviously, and Jennifer says You just don’t get this kind of life if you live South of the river. We all turn up our noses. Do you look like a pig or a bat? We agreed it was far … Continue reading Three poems by Lamorna Elmer
Two poems by Michael Wagg
Hutong Song There is a cypress tree in the middle of the courtyard; its sunken chest become hollow. It is very old. One day a starling passed by – it was very cold - and dropped a lunch berry by mistake. The berry fell down deep deep down into the dark cavern of the … Continue reading Two poems by Michael Wagg
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