Poetry Blog by John E Marks (2012)
Nicola Beckett on These empty streets (Mon, 25 Jan 2021 03:19 am)
Let us say we met in a room: curtained, peeling, private.
Briefly she consulted the winter afternoon,
Reviewed the deadening, leadening sky.
It was discreetly done.
No presences danced beyond no lifted curtains.
Darkness had silted us away.
Words, like spoons, stirred the air,
Thursday 23rd August 2012 3:33 am
Curlews cry, an Aegean sky: a boat
lifts and falls. The heat of noon, a lethargic
gloom, she's tracked with light this star-struck night.
Moon-shadows cast, it's cool at last, this sweep
and swell, this road to hell. The ship's becalmed
with false alarms, this attic night of bone-white light:
no palimpest, no Grecian zest.
A sapphic wind balloons the moon, fans the fog's
Thursday 23rd August 2012 3:30 am
I used to carry three of the five up to bed
They’d say ‘Daddy, daddy, please stay’
But I would go away and work.
Suddenly we were semi-detached
They’d flown the nest, gone way,
And what I wouldn’t give
For one day with them
When they were little and I was young.
Telling them stories, singing songs,
Tuesday 21st August 2012 1:58 pm