<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
To the Ravenmaster at the Tower of London<\/strong><\/p>\n Release your black charges from their cages \u2013 Now see your charges soar above the nation, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Justina Hart<\/strong> is a poet, performer and novelist who received a British Council\/Arts Council award in 2018 to tour her work in Australia. Her Remapping<\/em> pamphlet was shortlisted in the Poetry School\u2019s 2014 pamphlet competition. www.justinahart.com<\/a>, @justinahart<\/p>\n Note: This poem was shortlisted in the 2019 Second Light poetry competition.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Due<\/strong><\/p>\n Tibulus the freed-man of Venustus One thousand nine hundred and fifty seven years later <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Paul\u00a0 Jeffcutt<\/strong> lives in the Bront\u00eb Country of Northern Ireland.\u00a0 His debut collection, Latch,<\/em> was published by Lagan Press (2010). Recently his poems have appeared in The Interpreter\u2019s House, Magma, Orbis, Oxford Poetry, Poetry Ireland Review, Poetry Salzburg Review <\/em>and Vallum. <\/em>Website: http:\/\/www.pauljeffcutt.net\/<\/a> <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n ‘Speaks true who speaks shadow’<\/em><\/strong> What is said Words Your eyes <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Clarissa Aykroyd<\/strong> grew up in Victoria, Canada and now lives in London, where she works as a publisher. Her work has appeared in international journals and anthologies, and her first pamphlet Island of Towers<\/em> will be published by Broken Sleep Books in October 2019. She is the author of a blog on poetry and poets,\u00a0The Stone and the Star<\/em>\u00a0https:\/\/thestoneandthestar.blogspot.com\/\u00a0\u00a0 <\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Note: The title of this poem is taken from Paul Celan’s poem Speak you too,<\/em> translated by John Felstiner.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" To the Ravenmaster at the Tower of London Release your black charges from their cages \u2013 Gripp, Harris, Rocky, Merlin, Erin, Jubilee \u2013 six to save the country, as Charles II decreed: with a spare, Poppy, born and bred for Brexit. Glue back their primary feathers for balance. Feed them blood-soaked biscuits, […]<\/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-20142","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20142","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=20142"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20142\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20235,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20142\/revisions\/20235"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20142"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20142"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20142"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nGripp, Harris, Rocky, Merlin, Erin, Jubilee \u2013
\nsix to save the country, as Charles II decreed:
\nwith a spare, Poppy, born and bred for Brexit.
\nGlue back their primary feathers for balance.
\nFeed them blood-soaked biscuits, gralloch,
\nwhole rabbits complete with fur and bones.
\nWhistle to them, await the rich metallic caw.<\/p>\n
\nalight on a billowing blue flag, peck out
\ngold stars. Watch them swoop on Westminster,
\npluck out the tongue of every MP. Observe
\nhow they descend in an unkindness on Britain’s
\nsoft belly, biting green fields till they’re bare.
\nThen cry as the White Tower of London tumbles,
\nthe White Cliffs of Dover crumble to the sea.<\/p>\n
\nwrote with an iron stylus
\nin lamp-blackened beeswax
\ncoated on a tablet of fir
\nto Gratus the freed-man of Spurius,
\none hundred and five Denarii he owed
\nfor merchandise sold and delivered to him
\nin Londinium six days before the Ides of January.<\/p>\n
\nthe tablet was found preserved in mud
\nas foundations were dug in the City.
\nThe beeswax gone,
\nhis debt remained
\netched in wood.<\/p>\n
\n<\/em><\/p>\n
\ni.m. Alexander Litvinenko<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAgreed
\nIn boardrooms<\/p>\n
\nThe translation
\nInto day violence<\/p>\n
\nStill living
\nInto us<\/p>\n