Vermeer's Milk Maid I want to steal this picture - the stillness of the girl's averted face as she concentrates on a ribbon of milk, oblivious of my presence. This is a moment of balance, like the rounded belly of the pitcher hefted in her palm, the endless shift of weight from vessel to vessel. … Continue reading ‘Vermeer’s Milk Maid’ by Esther Morgan
Author: And Other Poems
‘i and the Village’ by C. Murray
i and the Village (after Marc Chagall) Dew drops into jade a three-quarter moon. Love O love! Your uprooted flower dissipates Its scentedness onto my hand, soon O soon recalling to me a certain music - My fate was always to leave the place where moon danced with subtle Neptune! All dissolves - Save … Continue reading ‘i and the Village’ by C. Murray
‘Lldánach’ (“skilled in many arts”) by Paul Adrian
Lldánach (“skilled in many arts”) the mighty, the ragged, the hoary, poet, wheelwright, harpist, blacksmith, champion, who was threefold born, and leavened fire whose wink could spook a horse who smashed Balor’s baleful gaze through the back of his head whose many wains were skinned with gorse who breathed from his feet upwards whose mind … Continue reading ‘Lldánach’ (“skilled in many arts”) by Paul Adrian
A poem by Paul Casey
The Speed of Cat's Eyes His eco-ship purrs silver-smooth past shores of bastard-amber stars, chases the veined twist of tail-lights, long spaces poised for sudden red. Earth's skin, spinning culture at past the speed of sound around its centre, skims the sun many thousand miles per hour more. He turns up his thoughts in … Continue reading A poem by Paul Casey
‘The World is Moving Closer to its Sun’ by Michael Stewart
The World is Moving Closer to its Sun There are these white birds that follow elephants around and they eat, from their dung, the seeds the elephants haven’t digested. The feathers of these birds are covered in oil, a sheen that ensures they go untouched by any of the elephant’s filth. One morning I was … Continue reading ‘The World is Moving Closer to its Sun’ by Michael Stewart
A poem by Tim O’Leary
Walking to the Bridge What succour is it easy to give back, when you’ve lost count of the times she’s forgotten what her memories fed her? How lucky she was. How long will her last legs last, or the will to trust my care? Her thankyous mean as much as amens muttered during mass … Continue reading A poem by Tim O’Leary
‘Appearances’ by Philip Gross
Appearances "What's the boy saying?" Gaunt hand wavering at me, nails like polished horn (Don't stare, your uncle's old and not well), signet ring a gleam on the wasted flesh (And call him Sir), the long-toothed grin, its awful vacancy ... then "Damn you, woman" - brittle, shrill – "Where are you?" She moved, … Continue reading ‘Appearances’ by Philip Gross
A poem by Sarah Barr
Crane Flies Sandbags by shop doors smell of mildew, river. Traffic whooshes by. The evening sun glints through horse-chestnut trees. Their leaves like giant hands are falling - we crackle through them. Tomorrow they’ll lie sodden. In the bedroom insects skitter up water-coloured walls and you dart around snatch at daddy-long-legs trap them in … Continue reading A poem by Sarah Barr
‘Cosmos’ by Grevel Lindop
Cosmos Between Orion and Gemini, an almost-full moon. Wrinkled tidewater tilting at the lips of Morecambe Bay . Galaxies of cow parsley edging the valley fields. Slow explosions of lichen on the fellside boulders. The long-armed yew gesticulating at your window: ancient growth-rings cupping a still more ancient hollow. Old glass: molten tremulous lungful … Continue reading ‘Cosmos’ by Grevel Lindop
‘The Chest of Drawers’ by Maitreyabandhu
The Chest of Drawers I ran along the lilac path to go and see her in the darkened room where, dressed in black, she sat with two alsatians at her feet. She showed me how to dust between the rungs of a wooden chair – you held the duster at either end, then pulled … Continue reading ‘The Chest of Drawers’ by Maitreyabandhu
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