<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Love Poetry of Judas Iscariot<\/b><\/p>\n
In Galilee, fog bound and still, I saw you smile a breath before the first bird sang
\nand though tone-deaf to the grace notes, I suspected some brief divinity
\namongst the rough clothes, rougher language and poisonous farts of our companions.<\/p>\n
\u201cLove\u201d, you said, \u201cis transformative, it makes new shapes of us all\u201d.
\n\u201cIt grinds us to salt\u201d, my terse reply.<\/p>\n
On the road to Jerusalem we made new testaments, burned away our articles of faith,
\nthe novelty of it all coughed in to an oven heated air like magic
\nthe colour of dark, arterial blood,<\/p>\n
but when I demanded absolute proof, you pointed to the wonder
\nof a swallows\u2019 coil-pot nest and with a flourish of your hand declared
\n\u201cBehold\u201d!<\/p>\n
It brought laughter from the others though not from me
\nmy skin too thin for that kind of fun.<\/p>\n
On the night before the night I sold you to the wolves of respectability,
\nin Gethsemane where sleeping olives dreamed of rain,
\nI pressed my face to the loamy earth and beneath a moon too cold to touch,
\nI believe I heard her mournful sigh;
\n\u201cnothing is new, nothing is new, I have seen it all before.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Mick Corrigan<\/b> has been published in a range of periodicals, anthologies, magazines and on-line journals His first collection, Deep Fried Unicorn<\/i> was released in to the wild in 2014 by Rebel Poetry Ireland. His poem Snowbound<\/i> has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize 2017\/2018 by San Pedro Review\/Blue Horse Press USA. He plans to do dangerous things with his hair before it\u2019s too late.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Where Erasers and Wastebaskets And I Am Kept \u00a0 \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n
This surly poorly reimbursed gigolo works for two offices.
\nOne desk overlooks the Pacific Ocean, the other virginal forest.
\nThe former is pure Lucite. Uncluttered. It is all about open water.
\nThe latter\u2019s socked in by zealous woods plus sentimental photo fog.
\nOn federal holidays, overlords unfetter my chains, force me to go outdoors.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Gerard Sarnat<\/strong> won the Poetry in the Arts First Place Award\u00a0plus the Dorfman Prize, has been nominated for Pushcarts plus Best of the Net Awards, and authored four collections: Mount Analogue selected Sarnat\u2019s sequence, Kaddish for the Country<\/em>, for pamphlet distribution on Inauguration Day 2017 as part of the Washington DC and nationwide Women\u2019s Marches.\u00a0 Harvard\/Stanford educated, Gerry\u2019s worked in jails, built\/staffed clinics for the marginalized, been a CEO and Stanford Med professor.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n A cloud disappears<\/b><\/p>\n It\u2019s 9 in the evening <\/p>\n Adrian Salmon<\/strong> is an international fundraising consultant by day, classically trained singer by night, and poet whenever he should probably be doing one of the other two things. He lives in Bingley, West Yorkshire.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Love Poetry of Judas Iscariot In Galilee, fog bound and still, I saw you smile a breath before the first bird sang and though tone-deaf to the grace notes, I suspected some brief divinity amongst the rough clothes, rougher language and poisonous farts of our companions. \u201cLove\u201d, you said, \u201cis transformative, it […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17500","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17500","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17500"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17500\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17502,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17500\/revisions\/17502"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17500"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17500"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17500"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nin Barcelona, a Monday,
\nand I\u2019m leaning
\non the stone wall
\nof the balcony
\nin my bathrobe,
\nvaping,
\nand the convent bell\u2019s
\ntolling the hour.
\nThe grass is so
\nimplausibly green
\nit has to be fake
\nbut the olive tree is real
\nand above me
\nin the late evening sun
\nthere\u2019s a cloud that looks
\nlike Cyprus, backlit.
\nThe bell tolls
\nand I look away
\nand now it looks like a president
\nwith a wispy quiff of a comb-over;
\nthe bell tolls
\nand I look away again
\nand now it\u2019s just
\na thumb and index finger;
\nthe bell tolls for the last time,
\nand now it\u2019s altogether gone,
\njust the pale blue left,
\nand the moon
\nand a mayfly,
\nand somewhere in the distance
\na passing moped,
\nscooting off
\nto wherever the party\u2019s happening.<\/p>\n