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Poetry |
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Girls (for Rebecca and Ellen)
By Nigel Walker
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Girls, girls
slow down !
I don't know what to write.
It will take one hundred hours
just to say how I feel about
the sound of your feet on the stairs.
Each morning you are a fresh oyster prised.
The crash of tsunami. The prow of a hunting ship.
When I am near you there is the smell of delicious food.
Hands held are like the first messages from intelligent aliens.
You have the constancy of traffic noise.
Your bodies are like hats blown off in a high wind.
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When I read to you the words become jumping beans.
Birds stream out of your mouths -
a cacophonous symphony.
You have built me a house in a mushroom.
I look down the wrong end of telescopes.
I am coated in chocolate.
On each beach you can name every grain.
You learn about Troy but don't understand Helen's beauty.
You open the door and the moon walks in.
Your inflections are dance steps to music I can't hear.
You play with the exuberance of exploding balloons.
Your dances are conflagration and pool.
The starved teeth of sharks.
Emotional fountains.
Eyes like the night sky on the fifth of November.
Girls, - I'm tied to a contract sealed with blood.
You are giving me maps with which
to explore the caverns of the heart.
I've learned that caring excludes myself and
that loving is a tight silk scarf
that always answers, yes.
Tomorrow is another park of crazy rides.
The next week as dark as history.
The theory of relativity is complex as an egg.
Nakedness simple as a tablecloth.
You have become deep pools to swim through,
mazes with monumental surprises at each turn.
A zoo of exotic misunderstandings.
Cathedrals have known less worship than I have for you.
Girls, girls,
slow down !
I don't know what to write.
It has taken me a thousand hours
just to get this far
and you're not yet
at the first floor landing.
Copyright ©2003 Nigel Walker 2003
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The wheel turns by degrees.
Years pass. The moon has,
once again, pulled up the sea
to eider the emulsioned mud.
A chocolate river wrapped
in rainbow slicks
gives an exit from which
any coast is possible.
Rudders flick sideways, undecided.
Water breathes in; the North Sea
scratches icy fingers on the staith
and slaps the rusty metal
as it sighs and hesitates.
Years pass. Knowledge
of tow and depth, keeping afloat
become a thing not learned
but sensed. Nor can the stars,
pointing to north and east,
say which is best, which
windows will be broken, which
bricks cracked. The wheel turns.
We draw lines in pencil on a map;
the possibilities. Years pass.
An inch this way or that.
The difference
to our destination
could be huge.
Copyright ©2003 Nigel Walker 2003
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Poetry - Thoroughly Post-Modern Millie & Conspiracy
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By Jane Foster
I'm thoroughly post-modern Millie.
I'm having such a ball.
I've got 15 personas
But no-one loves them all..
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I'm thoroughly post-modern Millie.
I've eaten all the men.
I swallowed all life gave me
And threw it up again.
Read more...
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by Lee Cassanell
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I could not be more obvious,
It echoes from my eyes,
I'm always semi conscious,
I can't help telling lies.
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My father was a butcher,
My mother easy meat,
I strolled the streets of childhood,
With sandals on my feet.
Read more...
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By Darren Sant
Excited young faces,
Stick thin legs and untied laces,
Breathlessly chasing the ball,
Youngsters large and small.
Read more...
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Poetry - "Chemical Love" and "Digit-ull Shitty"
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By Rich Mills
I double dropped before I went in,
Being searched by the doorman put my head-in-a-spin.
I pays me money and am through the door,
Head starts to bob, soon drawn to the dance-floor.
Then through throbbing heart and a tribal beat,
Two pairs of dilated rolling eyes briefly meet.
Read more...
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Poetry - What is a Friend?
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by Scott
Have you ever asked yourself, what is a Friend?
Surely it's a special relationship that'll not break but bend.
For you've known each other for years as mates,
During which you've got into some scrapes and states,
And over time recognise each other's strong points,
Confidences and deep thoughts shared over joints,
Are genuinely happy for their luck and enterprises,
Whilst lovingly empathising with their darker surprises.
Read more...
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