Poetry

Under the Meteor Shower

 

Should she pink the smile,

dream of a villa, wait for the one?

Cling to the first pair of trousers

passing by to tell her

the perfect length of her hair,

shape of her soap, size

of her breasts? Be a slave

in his shadow, have holes

gagged with his whims?

 

Or should she study a rock face,

its cruxes, lead a climb,

balance along the brittle ridge

above the raising mist,

cheeks slapped by wind,

bivouac in a bitter night

next to the stars,

press on to the summit?

 

Originally published in The Stony Thursday Book (IR), No 14 Autumn 2015

 

 

 

 

Galway Ghazal

 

Window catch faulty

do not open the window.

 

New tax on grave openings.

Please close the door to conserve heat.

 

Abortion: a woman’s right.

More fiction around the corner.

 

Have you made your will?

Note: incidents may be recorded.

 

The Mysterious Future Revealed under 5 minutes.

Shorts are not appropriate uniform choices.

 

You can help –

start a small group in your paris[h].

 

Please do not circulate during service.

Join us on the road to Bethlehem.

 

Sunshine Aluminium.

Edible Christmas decorations.

 

Tribal cleaning. Therapeutic flying.

These will be my memories of you.

 

Originally published in Skylight 47 (IR), Issue 6, Winter/Spring 2016

 

 

 

 

The Great Dark Spot

 

Someone else will have to

answer your letter.

 

I am busy conferring with

Cassiopeia about

expansion of the sky

summer rearrangement

of exploding stars.

 

I am tired of telling you

what burns inside

what dies

about feeding the fire

watering a single plant.

 

I return to myself

my strength

the centre of all beauty

I repaint the Great Dark Spot

relocate the Asteroid Belt.

 

You are a page

torn out of a star atlas

rustling in the distance

a speck of astral dust

in no one’s eye.

 

Someone else will have to

tell you it was not us.

 

First published in Stand (UK), 14.3 Autumn 2016

 

 

 

 

One Short Prayer

 

She started praying yesterday

walking along the Seine.

Some say a single god is enough –

she prays to the Aztec gods

the Etruscan gods

to the Egyptian gods

the Slavic and pre-Slavic gods

to the Nordic gods

the Greek gods and Roman gods

Zeus absent when she visited his home

(where are you angried people

gathered at the Mt Olympus)

the local gods

the cornerstone, milestone, millstone gods

the river gods

the stone bridge gods

the no-echo gods

the smell and taste gods

the rising fog gods

the meeting of eyes gods

the walk tall gods

the gods of lost and found

the gods of the horizon and the missing sky.

 

Originally published in Poetry Wales, Issue 52.2, Winter 2016

 

 

 

 

Reading Bilingual Poetry Edition

 

ordinary silence

freezes wayward thoughts

 

chill sips of green tea

its leaves wide open

sweet bitterness on the palate

 

bouncing stanzas from

English echoes

back to the source again

 

between pages white stitches

— dashes of homeland —

merging universes

 

Originally published in Poetry Cornwall (UK), Issue 41