Today’s choice
Previous poems
Day Seven of ‘Wonder’ for NPD: Helen Anderson, Sue Johns
I Wish This Phone Had a Better Camera
I need to show you these sunsets/
feisty last breaths/coral on flamingo/blood
yellow carcass/tiny theatre/blazing deaths/o soothing
apocalypse, haul my agitations on your olden back/blue borne/ shallow
purple/day vanquished/deft dip/off-black relief/pledged resurrection/
o so… very… pretty
Helen Anderson writes poetry and prose in a small town on the North Yorkshire coast. Her debut poetry pamphlet ‘Sagrada Familia’ was published by Nine Pens Press in 2022. www.facebook.com/
Written by Candlelight in March
When the light returns
I will remind the garden.
Along with the robins
who have cast off
their Christmas card coyness
to mate.
They’ll say and I’ll agree
that every worm-blind soul
must immerse themselves
in soil.
Embrace a pot plant
as worthy as an acre
pausing only for birdsong –
any bird
or in their absence
a child.
Sue Johns originates from Cornwall where she started performing as a punk poet, in the 1980’s. Publications include Hush (Morgan’s Eye Press, 2011) , Rented, Poems on Prostitution and Dependency (Palewell Press, 2018) and Track Record (Dempsey & Windle, 2021). She was highly commended in the Prole pamphlet and the Amnesty International competition. She has an MA (distinction) in Writing Poetry from Newcastle University/ The Poetry School.
Her work has appeared in anthologies such as can You Hear the People Sing (Palewell Press, 2020), Alter Egos (Bad Betty, 2019) Welling Up (Palewell Press, 2019) and Time for Song, Contemporary Cornish Poetry ( Morgan’s Eye Press, 2009), Ver Prize anthology, 2022 and magazines including Poetry News, The Morning Star, Southbank Poetry, Dreich, The Atlanta Review, Prole, The Alchemy Spoon, Brittle Star, The Big Issue, London Grip, Dream Catcher, Black Iris, Tears in the Fence, Orbis, Magma, Obsessed by Pipework and Culture Matters
@suejohns facebook
@johns_sue insta
Roger Robinson
We walk from cane fields,
cotton in our nightshirts, sweet
Amirah Al Wassif
My double sits before me now. I stare deep into her, as I do every day after midnight. When I raise my hands, she raises hers.
Sophie Lankarani
Even though I only once traced your streets with my own feet,
you wandered into my dreams anyway
sliding in through my grandmother’s stories,
Mark A. Hill
She wills his brush in colour
and chalking, fierce hued flaws,
which fall flat on the canvas
Rebecca Wheatley
He thought his heart was broken yet the day began again.
Katie Beswick
We were on my pink love seat
skin touching skin
I was drunk but longing
circled me, like stars
from a cartoon head wound
Kate Hendry
So what if there’s a dead patch.
Remember the havoc
unfettered fire makes –
Christtie Jay
My Lord, let the record show
she remembered everyone else
before this. If you must, take her
in teaspoons
May Grier
I wasn’t to know
that it was a three-tusked
beast; that there was not one,
not two, but three
that grew the seed of me.