Category: Poems

A Lesson from the Winter Solstice at Newgrange

A Lesson from the Winter Solstice at Newgrange Like the darkness inside the neolithic tomb, the misapprehension is profound. The star that lights this room knows nothing of our needs, of our constructs. It has no sense of its power, of how much we crave and depend on its warmth and illumination. It does not know that we have always…

You’re There

You’re There It is dark but I feel your hand on me. I hear you breathing as your fingers rest gently on my arm. I lie beside you and do not want to move. This nothing touch is nothing you are capable of any other time. Its rarity moves me. Sometimes I chase this flicker fruitlessly, a will o’ the…

Stemware, or Advice to Clumsy Parents

Stemware, or Advice to Clumsy Parents It doesn’t take much. Just a failure of your fingers to remember to hold on a little tighter, to grip the glass with just a little more care. Are you tipsy, or lacking strength? It wasn’t what you meant but still it falls from your hand, its contents trailing cataract-like through the freeze-framed air.…

Breasting the Tape

A poem I wrote about my father, who recently turned 79 and has been showing the signs of a mind and body slowing down and no longer being cognisant of the happenings of everyday life in real time. Not all the time, but enough to be of justifiable concern. It is old age. It is diminished brain function. It is…

Pod Poems!

So, as I continue my gloves-are-off approach to all things social media, I have started to write very quickly composed poems – using the lovely Miraquill app – inspired by specific episodes of the podcast. I present the first three here with the relevant episode beneath.

Merely

Merely I’m sorry. I’m just a man. I don’t know what I represent to you or anybody else. I only know who I am and who I’m not, what I’ve done and what I haven’t. I’m not trying to steal air or drink water or take space that was meant for you. I’m not looking for more. Merely enough. I’m…

Every Fallen Tree

Every Fallen Tree The reeds, still weeks off sprouting their shocks of composers’ cotton, were bent almost horizontal by the whistling wind. Moving in unison, they lulled and crescendoed to nature’s insistent baton, demonstrating the lesson I needed to learn: to cede, not to hold. But I had exchanged one storm for another. The battle brought outside, my brittle form…

Pannonia Girls

Pannonia Girls Eyes pools of wonder, glittering intelligence, sparkling mischief. Bodies shaped by pride, confidence and interest. Dimples and grins of gaiety and penny-dropping knowing. In the wooded space they have been given leave to grow, to be wrong, to be curious. Castles and kingdoms, and queendoms, made in dollhouses. The lash, the whip and the curse have not been…

Witchman

a poem from quite a few years ago, inspired by the sight of an aged driver advancing carefully along a motorway, a long, irate tailback in his wake Witchman Witchman, wrapped around leather, staring through glass, blasted eyes, bloodshot translucent skin. Fingers like knots of gristle and rock, stuck in time, modernity raging at his back, hook nose and jagged…

Six Days to the Gallows

Six Days to the Gallows On the first day I was walking and you marvelled at my feet. Every step I took was a miracle, tiny but complete. I raced around the bedroom and the air was filled with noise, Twenty-eight pounds of sunshine wrapped up in a smiling boy. On the second day I was talking and the words…