Poetry Blog by Laura Taylor
I understand your essence,
that you cannot help yourself,
that Gaia turned her face away from Sol.
Is it a gesture? A way to give her succour?
You let her have a song to sing
while I endure the tempest?
Fickle Winter, you do me a disservice.
Sometimes, you are beautiful and show me
tiny miracles of light, prismatic splashes,
Thursday 25th April 2019 1:46 pm
I live beneath a spiral chain,
a silver flow, associating
The best of me, the worst of me
won’t let me sleep,
assaults what was my fontanelle,
hurling endless arrows,
sometimes hammer blows.
Voracious, it would plait me
in perpetual prolixity.
I struggled to untangle braids of lexicon,
loquacity; a glossolalic battle...
Wednesday 24th April 2019 12:26 pm
Gentle as the lapping frill on Kilshannig shore,
between the strung out lonely poles conducting skylit power,
against the charcoal sketches lining distant Dingle ridges,
among the oyster catchers and trot-trotting sanderlings:
unbridled silhouettes gaze on the Hogs of Magharee.
Sleek surprises, piebald, white, chestnut, skew and ebony.
Luxurious, they crop and nuzzle ...
Tuesday 23rd April 2019 12:44 pm
Fur coat, no knickers.
No better than she ought to be.
Common as muck.
Too clever for her own good.
Slung out lines to stunt and mould,
ensure she doesn't reach her goals.
Keep her tight inside a box,
locked away from greatness.
Slappers, tarts, MILFs and cougars,
girl next door with Page 3 hooters,
sluts and slags and dirty bitches,
fried egg tits a...
Saturday 20th April 2019 11:53 am
Because our blue-lit journey took us into A and E,
then obs on a proper ward,
I didn’t clear drawers containing sailor whites or flags.
It wasn’t me that sorted photographs,
twenty sets of dentures, broken glasses,
or all the empty bottles that he’d stashed beneath the bed.
Because I’d pleasepleasepleased to the hospital with you,
all I got to see were empty rooms.
Thursday 18th April 2019 1:00 pm
I touched her mind and took her body
when she was just a child,
on summer days in hidden fields,
just me and her, alone.
Our little secret.
The first time, she was hesitant;
worried that she’d choke
or I would hurt her slender throat,
leave her aching and inflamed.
She soon got used to it.
It wasn’t legal, but no one really cared
as much back then....
Wednesday 17th April 2019 12:49 pm
You never know
them. Not aware of their location.
Never seen their face before.
No idea where they’re stood/sat/knelt in relation to yourself.
But something’s boring into you,
You never know
who they are, what they do, if they’ve ever heard of you,
seen your face around town,
stalking or in love with who they think you might be
by the colour of yo...
Tuesday 16th April 2019 3:00 pm
sharp as darts,
freckled luminosity of skin
made alabaster in the womb;
deep inside the crink of slice, hazelised,
laughing brightly under ginger ice frosting
of the hair gently falling from a head old
as the wild western shore.
I can see my roar reflected
in the crash of the Atlantic,
in the dashing rage of wave on wave...
Thursday 11th April 2019 1:02 pm
Never cast a clout
while the cherry blossom’s out;
wait for confetti.
“It’s cracking the flags”.
A black and white hosepipe ban;
moonlight sprays the lawn.
Fires in the fall.
Dead leaves to feed tomorrow,
daily bread for all.
Walking on thin ice,
I have promises to keep.
Season of goodwi...
Wednesday 10th April 2019 12:20 pm
Things That Make My Throat Close Over
The radio: Sibelius. Finlandia: the cello dread and brass intent of poems written afterwards, to tumble back before she left, for me to hold the hand and turn the cogs of my salty dog, bereft. I cannot listen without echoes.
The unexpected note my lover leaves me on the table, which I only see when he is far away.
The Grapes of Wr...
Tuesday 9th April 2019 2:09 pm
Monday morning meeting.
We are gathered here together
to cultivate ideas for performance-based incentives,
and the hot potato pay gap that we didn’t know existed
when we settled on the salaries.
So let’s talk benefits, with which to touch base on;
construct a presentation by the close of play today.
This pathetic sex pay gap will be smeared
by the media tomo...
Monday 8th April 2019 1:15 pm
To have grown without the grain of hate.
To sleep and want to wake before the school day starts.
To finally believe in happy endings, and beginnings,
and later, to know that it wasn't my fault.
To not be the crop she raised from kernel
to a raging field of fire, taking
half a span and passing to extinguish.
To not walk wanting, or wounded through the stubble,
Sunday 7th April 2019 4:56 pm
Snakes go ape for mice and rats.
Dogs eat dirt and snaffled snacks.
Mice adore a fragrant cheese.
Flu likes humans, hens and seals.
Bats eat beetles, moths, mosquitoes.
Bees are nuts for nectar.
Rabbits gorge on grass and bran,
and dandelion dinners.
Maggots love marshmallows.
Dust mites munch on pillows.
Streptococcus hungers after meat or milk or fish.
Saturday 6th April 2019 3:47 pm
Well I remember every little thing
as if it happened only yesterday
Parking by the lake and there was not another car in sight
And I never had a girl
Looking any better than you did
Remembering the first time, your pinstripe suit and Oxford knot, Dr Martens,
five foot two, and Paradise by the Dashboard Light, bellowed over tables stained
with too much wine at daft o’cloc...
Friday 5th April 2019 2:15 pm
The years went blind.
I slumbered in a cage
containing recipes for melodies,
bent to bathe in plastic-wrapped
A matte black horizon,
made bearable by you.
I decorated top-to-toe,
re-arranged the furniture so often
that a trip down to the toilet
was a broken bone in waiting.
Someone said it was symbolic
of a disconnected essence,...
Thursday 4th April 2019 12:40 pm
On Sliabh Mis mountain, Foley’s Glen,
the Widow Scotia lies in wait;
incantations meld with mist
and twist in curl and bloom of cloud,
avowed to wreak revenge
on Celtic kings.
Four hundred years before Our Lord,
the Pharaoh’s daug...
Wednesday 3rd April 2019 1:54 pm
If it was your son,
you’d want to know why.
What was on his mind?
Could it be predicted?
If he became the source of a statistic often quoted,
I think you’d want to know.
Or would you veer away?
Never ask yourself why
he reacted in that way.
Was it deliberate?
Did you raise your voice too often
in his formative years,
Tuesday 2nd April 2019 12:39 pm
Take two over-ripe ovaries,
one worn womb,
five consecutive nights of broken sleep
and enough perspiration to make a brand new ocean.
Congratulations – you are now a topographical feature
(or a gatefold concept prog-rock album).
Perhaps you could call that ocean The Sea of WhatTheActualFuck,
or for a more formal, though wildly optimistic, nomenclature:
The Sea of Oppor...
Monday 1st April 2019 2:19 pm