The grove

Poem for the week, 6 February 2023

 

 

 

 

The grove

Winter is the burning.
Rotten hearts of once sturdy oaks
stripped and axed and set ablaze.

Ashes fall from the sky.
Dark flurries of cremated yew
scattered on grit-covered snow.

Embers glow; soot remains.
The dead particles of old friends
keep us warm and on our feet.

Until the sun rises.
...
Until the sun rises.

Ice melts; nature wakens.
Springtime bursts with saplings, new buds
breathe unwooded joys of youth.

Pruned branches stretch fresh arms.
Treetops nod and gently whisper
secrets that winter forgot.

Leaves reach out to be touched.
Sycamore and ash are reborn
shady havens for lovers.

Until the sun goes down.
...
Until the sun goes down.

First published in 'magnetic resonance imaging' (buy here).

That Palaeozoic trilobite groove

Poem for the week, 2 January 2023

That Palaeozoic trilobite groove

This is the age.
This is the Cambrian Period, man.
Not some fusty Archaean sludge.
It’s cool; it’s happenin'.
Deal with it, proto-grandpa. 

Hang with the 'bites.
Dig that exoskeletal gear.
Perfect for piercings and tattoos.
Hard rock, blind fury.
Rage against the marine! 

Screw limestone, bro.
You seen those protozoans there?
Long aeons crumbling into dust.
Live fast, die neo.
I’s not headin' their way, dude. 

Just get a life!
Three lobes good, two lobes bad. No sweat!
That evolution’s some good shit.
Don’t split, go sexual.
Make love not walls. Forevah!

First performed in March 2009 at Poetry & Jazz by the Finn-Brit Players, at Arkadia International Bookshop in Helsinki, Finland.

First published in 'magnetic resonance imaging' (buy here).