Tag: lewes

Above Glynde Reach

I picked a bent path of grass treads
between time's tipped-hat stones
in St. Andrew's - Beddingham's
dry-high whispering graveyard

It hasn't absorbed any rising tidal
surge or sudden winter wash - of
God's clearing-out-no-chance-flood
since He-knows-when-of-last . . .

Sorry, access to full poetry content is now restricted.

Malling Down

We will seek any natural -
and unnatural - sedate shade
under these new northern arcs
of lifted latitude summers

We can still find strolled shelter
under an avenue of plane trees -
but only if dull conspirators
do not deny them a sure line

now their leaf-fat shadows stretch
over an . . .

Sorry, access to full poetry content is now restricted.

On the Meridian

It is a valorised thing -
according to Tesco's
stuck clock -
it keeps all minutes
at ten past each hour

An upturned claw on top
of the brewery's
brick chimney
sits finger-ready to grab
electrical strikes

as charged forklift trucks
whirl and rattle
quick around that
barrel-high . . .

Sorry, access to full poetry content is now restricted.

Hustings

Please hide a lemon
in your old man's coat -
their tear gas is primed
but that citrus is hope -

suck on its stung flesh
as if you suck for your life
Your vote for democracy
has been long-denied

We all carry crosses
but some are not struck -
we . . .

Sorry, access to full poetry content is now restricted.

A Crew

There is a slight run of resonance
with squared dips of catches -

it quickens with timed recoveries
along those rumbled turns

of leather-collared connections -
so that the forward lean-to-timings

lever everything to leant finishes
and the opening up of your lungs -

and we haven't even talked . . .

Sorry, access to full poetry content is now restricted.

Sea Rowing

There - almost baiting us -
ten thousand wind-ripped
waves palpitated on the lake -
but they are merely
breeze-skipping ripples
for us would-be sea fishers
of much bigger catches -

We are required to practice
in such innocuous conditions -
this millpond darkened stew -
before that unknown swell
beyond our harbour . . .

Sorry, access to full poetry content is now restricted.