Who Hears Me
By Ivor Steven. My ears are funnels But I do not want to hear The voices My lips do part But I do not speak The words My knees do bend But I cannot sit While I … Continued
By Ivor Steven. My ears are funnels But I do not want to hear The voices My lips do part But I do not speak The words My knees do bend But I cannot sit While I … Continued
By Ivor Steven. I cannot walk the continents Like the intrepid Marco Polo But my feet have felt the sands of time Pass between my toes I have not sailed the high seas Like the courageous Christopher Columbus … Continued
By Jenny Macaulay. The squelch of her boot the left then the right the decay of seagrass that lines the shore like ropes of filthy foam from an outgoing tide. She steps over those ridges of strangled … Continued
By Jo Curtain. sitting in a park, the afternoon dissolves in somnolence watery sunlight over still open water bordered by long, pointy, pith-less reeds. their heavy feet rooted in a Giacometti swamp. listen. listen. we all compete with the wind, … Continued
by Adrian Brookes. On Christmas morn in Camelot, as dawn was waking pale, There echoed from far dark domains a fraught and fearsome wail— A noble quest! To arms I’d sprung and bid my loyal steed Make thunder of his … Continued
By Janet Baird. a. Ticking Time Bomb In Rabaul broad pink beetle-nut smiles adorn the faces of the fuzzy wuzzies; unhurried, barefoot, brightly adorned they seem unconcerned by 14 active volcanoes. From its eyrie high on Mt Tovanumbatir the seismograph … Continued
By Janet Baird. eager rush for gold multi-masted sailing ships groan with ghosts below London bridge collapsed one span remained defiant fierce Southern Ocean where once there were twelve apostle rockstacks standing only eight remain winter migration flukes flap, tails … Continued