For the Unkept House Fill the bucket with water. Fill the coffin with stones. There’s a full moon over the river and there’s no going home. Make a well in the water. Make a house in the dark. There’s a full moon over the meadow and there’s no going back. Sweep the stars from the … Continue reading ‘For the Unkept House’ by Vona Groarke
Author: And Other Poems
A poem by Jonathan Davidson
Atrocity To die in a ditch or on a bombed-out Bus on the way to a market You’ll never reach. To have it all ended that easily, Cameras coming afterwards, Expressions of non-joy. You will never inhabit old age, friend. You will never sit in a quiet square Towards evening, hearing … Continue reading A poem by Jonathan Davidson
‘Kissing’ by Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
Kissing Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is more delightful than wine. Song of Songs, 1:2 Love, I’ve learned people do not kiss in Burma. There those that have been seen to kiss are liable to come under suspicion and surveillance leading to house-arrest or long terms in … Continue reading ‘Kissing’ by Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton
‘Exposition du Système du Monde’ by Jonathan Taylor
Exposition du Système du Monde My daughter’s blah-blah babbles coalesce into proto-words, “hiyas” and “mamas” condensing from the nebular static, planetesimals amongst the diffuse molecular cloud sucked inwards over what must seem to her millions of years by gravity towards a centre round which – as if she were acting out Laplace’s equations … Continue reading ‘Exposition du Système du Monde’ by Jonathan Taylor
‘Wood On The Downs’ by Martin Malone
Wood On The Downs After Paul Nash We have been here before. Uffington, Hackpen, Grim’s Ditch, Ogbourne St.George, Wayland’s Smithy, Sparshott Firs, Bishopstone and Barbury; all the trodden way from Overton to Beacon Hill. Each place its genius loci, a favourite colour: Ash-Blue, Ochre, Payne’s Grey, Terra-Verte, Lamp Black, Sienna. But today you ditch … Continue reading ‘Wood On The Downs’ by Martin Malone
‘Crates’ by Jo Bell
Observe that when I speak of crates your mind provides one straight away. Likely you are thinking of the fruiterer’s crate: a shallow slatted box of rain-matted pine, the archetype of apples stencilled on the side, a cartouche slot above it for a grocer’s hand. Your crate may be the sturdy plastic tub of … Continue reading ‘Crates’ by Jo Bell
A poem by Robin Houghton
Container In the first floor apartment movers swarmed, big hands, my childhood piano shifted by their grunts, prints lifted from walls, everywhere the sound of paper, rolling and wrapping small items, I glanced away from fridge magnets, swaddled in their shrouds, laid out like ‘pass the parcel’ games, ready to pack. My cupboards were … Continue reading A poem by Robin Houghton
‘Child’ by Marion McCready
Child The field has drowned and turned into a tideless sea. Flower shapes rise from a toddler’s broken ribs. Beyond the head of a loch a broken swing hangs from a tree. His body bruises in the dark, he has learned to be quiet. Clouds drag their shadows over hills, ridges, fields of sheep. … Continue reading ‘Child’ by Marion McCready
A poem by Siegfried Baber
The Law of the Playground We've all done it: crossed our hearts, hoped to die, and asked for needles in our eyes if what we were saying turned out to be a pack of lies. And here you are, standing in the dock accused of arson: fingerprints on a jerry-can, a book of matches, … Continue reading A poem by Siegfried Baber
A poem by Tom Wiggins
Bookshop A friend once said, 'You won't find a girl with a sounder mind than in a bookshop.' So I started at G, leafing through books and drawing some sense from the space that they left. It may have been restlessness that took me to M via "L" so soon, but I paced the … Continue reading A poem by Tom Wiggins
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