Because I was made up of so many parts, you added to me over time and couldn’t see the real me. Because you left me standing over there, coated in rusting tin, you never knew the real me. Because you wouldn’t give me back my heart I’m going to chop my way out of this […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
No crickets here
I’ve always been attracted to the sound of crickets. As a child, I was enchanted by their presence in American films, when characters sat on the porch in the evening to a soundtrack of crickets chirping; and then, when I visited Italy several times during summer, I was amazed by the constant background noise, even […]
Dipping
in crystal streams that brim with exquisite clarity streaked with fronds of weed children with nets for sticklebacks and water boatmen dip into the mysteries rainbow trout and biplane dragonflies shimmering like electricity shimmering like electricity and biplane dragonflies rainbow trout dip into the mysteries for sticklebacks and water boatmen children with nets streaked with […]
Back to School
In the first week of childhood’s September, going back to school was unreal, when I discovered a new sense of smell: I inhaled new uniform, shoes and plimsolls, and the scent of sharpened pencils in satchels. I breathed stale lost property masked with polish from parquet floors of classrooms and the hall; chalk-free blackboards and […]
Boxing Hares
I spotted them between the trees, ears like streamers in the breeze, striding with their long legs in enigmatic zig-zags to an impromptu arena of fresh grass, two mad March hares: an ardent buck boxed around the ears by an exhausted doe, surprisingly fierce. My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: Thinkin’ Inside the Box […]
Flight of a Bright New Poem
It germinates in the slow melody of water glinting in the shallows of the mind’s eye, the interplay of reeds and light that whisper through the open window in the dead of night. A brilliant fluorescence lifts and shifts shape into a metallic demoiselle rising in the mesmeric shimmering of wings, and the early morning […]
Unseen to the Naked Eye
In the prelude to a storm, I watch the sky bruise, hear thunder introduce lightning in a breath before it pirouettes across the sky. As the show fades into the distance, ghosts appear in a pale fluttering of moths filling the garden with clouds. Unseen to the naked eye, in the grass or in the […]
Hiroshima Spores
I wasn’t alive in August 1945 – I arrived eleven years and a day after Fat Man was dropped on Nagasaki. I knew nothing of the horrors of those atomic bombs until I saw ‘The Bomb’, Episode 24 of ’The World at War’, a documentary series I watched with my father and, more recently, with […]
Punctuation of Life and Death
When you lose someone, the world warps: a comma butterfly (settling on a nettle) distorts – flicks open wings to burnish, only to crisp in the sun. When you lose someone, summer colours tarnish; tastes and smells curdle like mouldy blackberries on a parched tongue, and all the while you long to hear their voice, […]
Breaking the Silence
the moon greets the dawn shimmering from night’s silent well breaking the stark silence of a winter morning, a single crow calls in sleep’s dark cocoon there are sounds no one else can hear beyond the heart beat, air in lungs and surge of blood in ears from the depths of sleep, muffled ticks are […]
writing in north norfolk 