Today’s choice

Previous poems

Lindsay McLeod Espinoza

 

 

 

Notes on Liminal Maps

Venus passed over the south node of the Moon today:
I don’t know what this means but I do know that dark
tons of metal carved a curve slower than belief

through dusking light beneath grey under-bellied
clouds as she held court above in that cold
filled blue space between them.

 

 

Lindsay McLeod Espinoza is a Scottish somatic educator and writer, living in Andalucia, Spain. Her work has been published in Ambient Receiver, Dialect anthology and long-listed for the Rialto prize and Poetry London Presents. She can be found online @gurubody.

David Gilbert

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Simon Williams

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Sarah O’Connor

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Laurence Morris

      Plantation blues Morning light is warm quicksilver on the desert plateau of the high Monadhliath, bare stone and scoured earth the seed of man and winter. The upward flow of pines is genesis not rewilding, redcoat drumbeats on the drove road still...

Ysella Sims

      Changeling Away over the hills the girl’s father is shapeshifting - grown grey and yellow, wheezing against the pillow’s soft sink, feet that have polkaed and gavotted, tangoed and waltzed vaulting him now, into the submission of the couch. Across...

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Harry Man

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Julia Kuniewicz

      the landlady  she moved into the living room so casually no one protested. it’s a chill household, she had said. I lived by it even as the first livid blotches of mould spread up the kitchen wall and death took residence on the couch. I could...

Annie Powell Stone

      dis)connecting do not disturb is a phone setting and a feeling as I set out the evening breeze biting my cheek is an invitation I walk until I remember how to find shapes in clouds until I can smell the sweat on my upper lip until I can really...