Poetry Blog by chris stevenson

At first I thought we'd meet again..

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...


At first I thought we’d meet again,
aware of some shadow behind
my shoulder.

And then your voice, would explain,
through smoke and dust in a
faltering breath.

“I thought returning to those you love
is a promised debt for our
life’s pain.
Yes, at first I thought we’d meet again.”

Then I waited here, pacing slowly,
and a shadow did move within
the shade.

The voice was b...

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Son.

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..


Is it just like that
and then y’gone
a tune some’aware
along the horizon
where I did not catch
y’last words me mate
so easy y’just
turn away fer a’minute
and then gone?

We’ll not meet again bud,
yer too far ahead now
down some path long.
I cannot but wish
yer were still here,
such a vacancy sighs
with so many pretty
girls in the plait’d
yer will not chase.
I told yer wh...

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Magnolia

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...


Each year you will be clothed in
this pink caress and warmed by
shadows passing from granite to bark,

while smoke drifts between the stone
and the stable where a pony shivers
to greet the dawn.

And you in your fragile boat on smoothing
waves will disappear towards a cold horizon
as we lean forward begging your return.

But no word of farewell echoes here, no
final touch, no...

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SEWER

.....


I never write on things that rhyme
I don’t chase girls before half-past nine
My wallet’s empty the dosh is gone
Like the fastest cake, it’s scone, it's gone,
Y’look at me and wait for a smile
But I’ve nowt to say and life’s a trial.
The fridge is empty; the plug’s pulled out,
I only eat food when I go out.
I never drink until Friday lunch,
I’m with a delicate but scary bunch,
...

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Tourdion

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..


These marvellous inclined planes
that with such precision take
upon themselves
the rite of beauty which
unknown to anyone fall into
some dark void and
with a whisper just before death
accuse and deny in one word the
meaningless eons which have gone before.

I was quietly observing the distance
between the stars
when with such a slight force
the years closed in on me and
the g...

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Brittle Leaves.

..


My great great great gran’mother.
Where are you Rosanna?
I thought when you die, you remain
to protect the children. I thought
in every shadow you would stand.
I dreamt Rosanna wore her ring.
She passed it to me saying; “I must go.
The shadow is for you now.” How can
I belong to a gypsy and not understand?
Gran’mother you left too soon.
I’ve become a brittle leaf, Rosanna. I
can...

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hour-glass

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.


We search for symmetry
She searches for symmetry in my
Face.
I search for a flaw in her curves.
Some slight error which will attract
Me.
There are turquoise lines between
The crimson squares which make
up the irregular pattern on her
crumpled Shetland wool shape.  
My hand sits on the curve of her
Hip, so when her boot slips on the
Jagged moss I take her weight on
My arm and sh...

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There are no dead.

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There are no dead like your dead.
Relentlessly impaled on your memory,
her tiny hand, his frozen bicycle,
his uniform in the doorway, halo’d in
morning light saying “I’ll be alright”,
her scarf thrown aside in the sunshine.
There are no dead.

There are no wounds like your wounds.
Bathed as a child in crimson shadows
his unseeing eyes plead for life,
her skirt in the glade, not run...

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.... walkin'

 

See you walking
On a sunny day
Takes my breath away
And like a child
again
I am laughing.

See you running
In an open field
Dancin’
with the butterfly
Like some child
again
You’re laughing
With me.

Now the day is ours to borrow
Never thoughts of a tomorrow
Laughter has the taste of sorrow
You’re here
Again.

Drink this wine
The brightness holds us
Feel the wind upon y...

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sunset ... an elegy.

 

The sun is slow tonight, she moves towards
the horizon with care, an uncertain path
because someone is missing.

The sunset will hesitate again, she moves
unsteadily, knowing the colours will be faint
because someone is missing.

The horizon reflects the sorrow in a lake,
my lake, where drowning she takes away our
hurt, because someone is missing.

We nail our friend to a cross, i...

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angleseyelegysunset

Durban



Rain, beautiful, cooling
so  pacifying,  relentless.
Crowded  green trees dripping
tears  and  dew-drops,
spattering  in  shiny  puddles
around  bricks,  sticks  and
bits  of  floating  paper.
Amphibians  blink.
The  gnome  carelessly  throws  a  cast
hoping  a  tadpole - for - tea   passes  by.
Red  hat  in  the  downpour  shining.
Bending,  sharp  leaves, dripping,
...

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( excerpt ) In the rain.

 

Those books, where’s he taken them, who died? Those were my books.
I know what the other two were. Nobody passed, nobody, the street was
like a funeral procession that had failed to appear, the space reserved
but the burial delayed because the coffin refused to enter the hearse.

Again they tried but it would not move. The road is clear somebody says,
we have to go, but the coffi...

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Marbury



Today  I  took  the  long  narrow  lane
Which  turns  and  winds  to   Marbury.
Found  the  seat  opposite  the Lamb
Turned  right  ,
A  row  of  houses  ,   where   you   lived
Many  years  ago.

..... and  the  fields  are  raw  ,   bleak  ,
frost  is  cold  against  grey  hedges  clipped  back  for  winter
it  is  very  quiet  ,
horses  wear  coats  ,  grey  sky  ,
catt...

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Recent Comments

andy n on At first I thought we'd meet again.. (Sat, 23 Sep 2017 09:48 pm)

Colin Hill on Son. (Mon, 15 May 2017 10:25 am)

keith jeffries on SEWER (Fri, 24 Mar 2017 09:27 am)

Lynn Hamilton on SEWER (Thu, 19 May 2016 02:54 pm)

Emily Kate O'Sullivan on SEWER (Wed, 18 May 2016 07:54 pm)

Tommy Carroll on There are no dead. (Mon, 11 Aug 2014 08:26 pm)

M.C. Newberry on There are no dead. (Fri, 8 Aug 2014 02:59 pm)

Graham Sherwood on There are no dead. (Thu, 7 Aug 2014 11:33 am)

Marianne Louise Daniels on There are no dead. (Thu, 7 Aug 2014 09:55 am)

Rose Casserley on There are no dead. (Thu, 7 Aug 2014 09:38 am)

on sunset ... an elegy. (Wed, 19 Feb 2014 04:44 am)

stella jones on Marbury (Mon, 18 Mar 2013 01:29 pm)

M.C. Newberry on Marbury (Sat, 16 Mar 2013 05:11 pm)

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