Self-Portrait as a Last Meal Me in this found world. Mother and father, horned, pronged, point due north, guards of white meat on a grey plate. Lone glass, all mouth is not my sister. Here murderers wait to eat the clot-dark looming thing I am with its one eye that hides in plain sight, stares … Continue reading Two poems by Pippa Little
Category: Poetry
‘At the Station’ by Imogen Forster
At the Station For a moment, the sharp smell of roasting coffee is like tobacco, a time when the air in public places floated carcinogenic blue and men in overalls, forebears of the two who are passing me now, would give off a dark industrial reek, as if they were fume-pickled. One of them could … Continue reading ‘At the Station’ by Imogen Forster
Three poems by Carolyn Jess-Cooke
The House of Rest A History of Josephine Butler, feminist and social reformer, 1828-1906 Eva Then you were here real as a wound. They placed you in my arms with such care I thought you a parcel of feathers that might fly away. I stroked your face – Your eyes were midnight blue. Time bended … Continue reading Three poems by Carolyn Jess-Cooke
Two poems by Ali Thurm
Home birth Sun seeps through crab apple blossom and I lie on the sofa exhausted but complete. She’s sleeping next to me wrapped in her blanket. It feels like birthdays when I was a child when the whole day was entirely mine. Newborn The first night he was mostly mouth, a … Continue reading Two poems by Ali Thurm
Three poems by JT Welsch
The Market Thank god, the past is free from commodity, free to occupy more reliable abstractions. O, to be a tourist of one’s own life, a gift shop full of all the things I always deserved as a child: the graphic novel of my Punic Wars. What could they ask that wouldn’t still be cheaper … Continue reading Three poems by JT Welsch
‘Baton’ by Andrea Holland
There is something of rain to you I could say to my brother if anger was bite size and not a baton to be wielded to a plum. I want you to want an available peace, an acquittal of ire, a way out of fiery words, a little less of seizure with tongue, the way … Continue reading ‘Baton’ by Andrea Holland
Poem to Ivor Gurney by John Greening
Dartford To Ivor Gurney A clear Spring morning. The G20 leaders assembling in London. An announcement about the abolition of the old … Continue reading Poem to Ivor Gurney by John Greening
‘First the Music and then the Words’ by Jeremy Wikeley
First the Music and then the Words Listening to Strauss’s ‘Capriccio’ I dreamt I was decked in dark furs and running down the colonnades of a deserted town, one time the capital of a great empire, now in flames. I smashed statues, slashed tapestries and stripped the gold. I pissed in the silverware and forced … Continue reading ‘First the Music and then the Words’ by Jeremy Wikeley
‘Tacit’ by Kate Wakeling
Tacit Prospero: No tongue! All eyes! Be silent. [soft music] (The Tempest, Act IV, Sc. I) In the beginning came the hush: nub of his rule, the anti-ruckus, my quiet kept to forge his crown. This was a daughter tutored mute, speech no sooner to bloom than be swaddled. He saw me stitch the peace … Continue reading ‘Tacit’ by Kate Wakeling
‘A confession’ by Mark Robinson
A confession My friends, I left my foot in and I followed through. I ploughed on when pace left me for dead. I pulled out of simple 50:50s. I chose to stand still and became a wall. I ball-watched, took my eye off it. I made bad decisions and thought I saw passes My limbs … Continue reading ‘A confession’ by Mark Robinson
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