Form

A leveret lifts from his home,

Sinews stretch, extend and disappear.

A hand descends into the warmth of his form

And rotated grasses return to stand.

 

A mammoth is lifted from the ice,

Skeletal striations melt and disappear.

A tenancy dissolves with a vanishing scape

And museum bones return to stand.

 

A medic lifts a sleeper from her cave

Sodden bedding peels back to disappear.

A form slots into polythene

A mortuary lozenge never to stand.

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To have the freedom of the drowned sailor #repealthe8th

I am a big college pointer,

Travel sick without moving.

 

I am a 22 year old shop worker,

Unable to walk on water.

 

I am the belle of the Barn,

Hiding beneath Emmet’s bridge.

 

I am a dystopian virgin,

Crouched and cold and slick with dirt.

 

I am a fifties country girl,

Creased and crazed and fraught with fear.

 

I am the child crucifix,

Abused and broken with arms outstretched and feet mud frozen.

 

I am the isolated mother,

Business heels and taut gym skin.

 

I am your walking sin.

 

I am the watcher on the banks,

Trapped between the dank black stilliness and the drowned sailor.

 

And yet

I am the watcher on the bridge,

Caught behind the sailor’s pearl dead eyes,

Listening to a republic’s dying sighs.

 

I am your nurse, I am your teacher, I sold you shares, I am not your mare.

 

Bells ring and bibles beat,

Swallows swirl and dive and dip.

One by one they pick an oil skin to lift.

 

A long dead sailor is carried from this wasteland

While I remain

bathed in the glory of stained glass light.

 

A long dead sailor is carried from this wasteland

While I remain

choked  on rhetoric and  the poverty of sand.

 

A long dead sailor is carried from this wasteland

While I remain

gagged by the past and  weed clogged waters.

 

I am the woman threading time’s spinning wheel,

waiting for a chance to choose but forced to kneel.

I am your prisoner, trapped and dying.

Now is the time to repeal, repeal, repeal!

#repealthe8th #righttochoose #timetoact #ifonlywomencouldwalkonwater

Moon Dust in your Face

 

I lift you to my face

And you leave behind the faintest trace

Remnants of another time, another universe, another place.

 

I settle you on our bed

And in you see the faintest thread

Dust woven from stars and moons into a history of saids and un-saids.

 

I rest your head in my hand

And lay you chin against my lifeline,

My palm, your cheek and eye resting flush with its broken rejoin.

 

I lift you to the sky

And watch all those other moons fly by

Spinning galaxies of stars reflecting your helix, your eyes, your smile, your cry,

All bound in you with the touch of a never-ending tie.

 

-For baby Clara who has brought about the undoing of us all!

infant