Poetry of the Month - March

Welcome to the March 2008 Poetry of the Month page.

Poems

A line drawing of old books stacked up. Tumbled out in disarray
they appear from bubbles that have washed them clean
and rinsed them almost down the drain.

Fragile candyfloss words pegged out to dry
then tossed into the memory basket
waiting on the heated pen.

To dare to plan such schemes as these
in moments snatched
To try and blow the bubbles in a game.

This one’s for you

A photograph of woodland and grass taken in Ireland. I entered not knowing
It was a gamble, a risk
I lay with risk until someone called my name
I unlatched the door
There on the doorstep
I found more than I was searching for.
Oh my God, Oh my God, I whispered
Like I’d just found Jesus
And glued my lips to the cold night air.

Swings and Roundabouts

Someone’s pushing the roundabout,
I can’t see who it is,
I know I’ve got one foot on the ground,
I’m holding on tight,
I think I’m laughing,
I’m wearing a painted face,
Nobody knows,
My shoe is scuffed,
It’ll never be the same,
I call out, “stop”,
But they don’t listen,
Perhaps they can’t hear me,
I’ll have to jump,
I land dizzy and shaken and I’m angry
because the someone has gone.
It must have been someone clowning around

Taken from a poetry collection published as part of a year long residency as Writer in Residence in a psychiatric Hospital. This was the introductory poem

That room

It was mostly silent in that room
We sat and sat and thought until empty

Relentlessly watching, we watched her and one another for some sign
Knowing, but hoping for something different.

We didn’t need to speak in that room.
Like lovers, we knew the look, the touch, the silence.

But we all stopped breathing in that room, afraid to ask

Yes, we nursed my sister in that room.

And when we left that room, we were like children we didn’t know.