I have just discovered this is my 500th post. I don't normally take note of such numbers but 500 seems like an achievement. I looked to get an estimate of how many poems there are on this blog. Given that there are a number of revised poems, reviews and interviews I would suspect there are at least over three hundred poems.
That really is amazing. I'll leave it up to you to decide if any of them are any good.
Here's to the next 500!
Now the poem that gives the post its title.
This is not a finished poem. I feel it needs to go somewhere but at the moment I am not sure exactly where. It has description but I am not sure it has a tongue to tell its truth.
Watch this space.
Now a second poem I wrote a couple of weeks ago in Teignmouth.
Again I feel this poem needs time to breathe. Sometimes the poem arrives whole and other times, like now, I have to leave them to acclimatise.
Here's a track from Kathryn Williams' Anthology. It is proving a balm given the political turmoil our crime minister and his jolly gaggle of privileged poltroons are causing.
Kathryn is touring the UK at the moment. If you get the chance go and see her, she's wonderful live.
Until next time.
That really is amazing. I'll leave it up to you to decide if any of them are any good.
Here's to the next 500!
Now the poem that gives the post its title.
in this still air not a tree shivers
we
walk empty streets of paused lighten
and
when the rain does come
we
are caught in the open
between
the thunder and the echo
our
clothes far too thin for the wind
which
saws through the skin
to
pare each bone
This is not a finished poem. I feel it needs to go somewhere but at the moment I am not sure exactly where. It has description but I am not sure it has a tongue to tell its truth.
Watch this space.
Now a second poem I wrote a couple of weeks ago in Teignmouth.
Teignmouth Poem Number 1
when
glimpsed through these trees
the
pier could be a bridge
connecting
the drab and the mundane with
anywhere
you care to dream of
some
place of lives lived by other rules
where
people tell their truths
and
do not meet just to say goodbye
Again I feel this poem needs time to breathe. Sometimes the poem arrives whole and other times, like now, I have to leave them to acclimatise.
Here's a track from Kathryn Williams' Anthology. It is proving a balm given the political turmoil our crime minister and his jolly gaggle of privileged poltroons are causing.
Kathryn is touring the UK at the moment. If you get the chance go and see her, she's wonderful live.
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