Guest Poems

Rose Garden I see things in black and white, he says. He means he sees them plainly with a will proudly to describe the truth in prose and strip away the fantasy and frill. Red rose of passion, yellow rose of peace, the flaming orange and soft violet stir feelings as...

Jug after Vermeer’s Milkmaid She knows to hold it steady with her left hand, as her right hand tilts the heavy jug – too much milk and the children won’t eat the pudding of yesterday’s bread, crumbled ready on the blue cloth, the Virgin’s colour, like her apron, yet...

Agent is Typing... In order to help, I need to get you to the right person, a few questions now, to confirm your identity. Where shall I send the transcript of our conversation? We’ve all got hologram thoughts, biases, perversions, you may feel you were born in the...

On the Line It's cows that block our journey, leave us wrapped in a tunnel of trees,learning – because we have no choice – to be stopped, somewhere near Crewkerne, to look at leaves unblurred by speed, speak to our neighbours, stretch and peer – although we can't see...

Wild Swans of Torquay Queuing in a traffic jam driving to the seafront pre-dusk. Emerald, garnet and diamond illuminations flicker. Oblique shadows crisscross the road. Dwindling rays glance off wing mirrors and chrome fittings. The sea soothes in soft grey, Devon...

Kingfisher A colourful fantasy flung between river banks splashing a drab winter day. It wedges its ego through excited heartbeats of this wrapped-up walker, seeming to ask if I know how to be me. I feel that the flight is a zip opening my mind. I get a feeling of...

A Movement Does there exist, and has there ever existed a movement to make the muddy plain strewn with wrecks and lost goods west of Lisbon, that people witnessed some time All Saints' Day morning 1755, the new Atlantic normal all oceans should aspire to? In less than...

Shall I Compare Thee to a Winter’s Day Thank you, Will Shakespeare shall I compare thee to a winter’s day thou art more cold and icy than the snows rough words come clanging as the pay off, red hot anger in your face shows season’s sun as frozen; that’s your lot – nor...

Through the window Early morning, a small glimpse of cobalt blue, light through a veil of mist and glint of pearl on frosty paths. Silver tipped, the larches gleam in this white light. Strong impression of the sky widening; here and there tints of mauve, a flush of...

Love and Quantum Theory Nerve end memories of you flicker until the light from so many daybreaks dissolves the searching iris and lens and my flesh edges from its purpose revealing basic bone and mineral. How do we promise everlasting love when only sockets in skulls...

Two Benches I never imagined this. Outside a blank, white room, with its blank, white walls. Inside, the clock unwinds; seconds drip steadily down the line, waiting for nature to call time. On a cold metallic bench I wait, suspended; Stop-motion faces speed by;...

The Look I’m thinking of the look a woman gave as the mudslide rushed towards her and she turned her face upwards and threw her baby clear. I’m thinking what the last person who saw her saw in her face. No photo fixes it. No artist had time to paint that look....

Sunflower Down at the pub, the rumours had soon spread : our local farmer’s selling off his land. When goat-man left and pheasant farm shut down, we realised there was truth in what was said. Soon, other tenants left their grazing land – moved horses on, their meadows...

Portuguese Churches They tower on the hilltops of the far Reconquest, Holding up their crosses to the heavens – Tall centuries of flinty faith Piled high to fill the sky with their conviction. Once new, once bright, once bold, They groan now under their own history,...

The Beekeeper She is veiled, white gowned, holding by its neck a metal rooster that clucks with smoke. Under the cottage cheese blossom there’s a fae circle of wooden homes. With a gloved hand she snaps the propolis under the gabled roof; a behemoth bride revealing a...