Today’s choice

Previous poems

Nick Cooke

 

 

 

Between the Ears

For Seán Street, in celebration of his 80th birthday
(2nd June 2026)

 
Molluscous receivers, would that you could
turn your talents inwards, and pick up
all that goes on in the cerebral swamp
that separates you, with its eighty-six

billion neurones, the tiny light-black
entities of which Poirot so often spoke –
along with oodles of (possibly telltale)
fat. ‘I wish you could hear yourself’…

how often have we heard or said this,
forgetting ‘There’s none so deaf’ is the best
of mottoes? – and those myriad neurone-
radars will only work if the lower-sited organ

(on the left-hand side of the thorax)
is disinclined to switch them off,
as it can, dear molluscs, as it does.
Poets applaud the noble ticker ruling

the noggin, but you’ll think otherwise:
the gift of self-audition’s no small feat,
and the heart most times should stick
with its basic bloody business – to beat.

 

Nick Cooke has had around a hundred poems published or accepted, in a variety of outlets including Acumen, Agenda, The Dark Horse, Ink Sweat & Tears, the High Window Journal and I Am Not A Silent Poet, along with around 40 poetry reviews. In 2016 his poem ‘Tanis’ placed first in a Wax Poetry and Art contest. He was a featured poet on the Flapper Press site in December 2025.

Amirah Al Wassif

Beneath my armpit lives a Sinbad the size of a thumb.
His imagination feeds through an umbilical cord tied to my womb.
Now and then, people hear him speaking through a giant microphone—
Singing,
Cracking jokes,

Mark Smith

In the portacabin that morning, men smoked
and looked at last week’s paper again.
There was no water to fill the urn.
The first job – to get connected

Toby Cotton

A blustery day –
the wind too strong for kites
or for lifts to the sky.
“To a thoughtful spot,” it cites
and pins me to the earth.

Jane Frank

The leaves are a colour you’ve never seen
but that I will learn to expect
and there’s a fracas-induced full moon