Friday, 5 April 2019


As usual the photographs bear no connection to the poem.
This time a revised poem. You can read the earlier draft here.

he walks down the street
going to the supermarket
in his hands
bag and shopping list
but in his head
- an asteroid is towed towards Metaluna
the magnetic field glows, bright red and
he’s looking Eli Wallach in the eye
We deal in lead mister
while the boat burns
as the black bird disappears
then she’s just taken that photograph
the one of the last supper
with the camera her mother gave her
and the feathers fall
almost drifting out of the silvered screen
he’s watching her face
something has changed
the impatient world interrupts
and now he must choose a cabbage
as the onions clamour for his attention

Essentially the punctuation has been removed but is is the better for that.
This second poem has had the layout changed from the first draft
Thanks to the Secret Poets for their insightful feedback.
A couple of superfluous words have been removed  and one line rewritten.

Poem for Sheila

brittle as bone china
ever more fragile
she tells me what she sees
it is not my reality

I am glad she is talking
attempt to see her reality
I’ve known her half my lifetime
so I can follow the clues

gently we talk
until head bowed
she slips into sleep
the magazine falls from her hand

We had a discussion about whether the word brittle was suitable because it could be interpreted as implying hardness, which is the last word I would use to describe Sheila. It has stayed in the poem. Our thoughts are still with Ryley Walker. Get better soon.

 Until next time.

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