Today’s choice
Previous poems
Annie Acre
Solarpolar
i am sun-shot / green-beamed / stem-steep /
hands cupfuls of heartlines / conjuring water /
my face light-dialled / hair wild /
screaming beauty
&
i am root-retched / soiled-deep / dirt-dark /
legs spindly – lost maplines / petering earth /
my thirst worm-cursed / blackburst /
mulching ugly
Annie Acre is a surveyor/poet. She performs spoken word around Manchester and works on Council regeneration projects. She loves wordplay and town halls and townplay and wordhalls. She hopes you like what she’s doing with the place. @surveyorpoet surveyorpoet.co.uk
Paul Chuks
Newton didn’t discover gravity
The apple did.
Lola Dekhuijzen
the window is a derivative landscape
painting: streaks of blue for a sky,
Rupert Loydell
With the completion of mindset
my life is in order, two weeks after
the day before.
Rachael Hill
Those times my tongue becomes a lemon
filling my mouth with bitter pith
John Doyle
I hide a knife amongst a bush longing to burn,
days like these are plots from a heathen’s bible.
William Coniston
My second cousin twice removed arrived in May
at her old nest in the eaves of the ruined barn.
Simon Williams
A white cloak that folds like a shopping bag,
like a Pac-a-mac with pagan overtones,
much larger when unfolded than a pocket,
a TARDIS of a cloak.
Emma Page
I grow shoots, acid green;
climb the walls,
surprise myself.
Mary McQueen
It’s starts in utero, painted wood carvings thick as a
finger, gift
wrapped in nostalgia.