Today’s choice
Previous poems
Gita Ralleigh, Julian Matthews, Jackie Taylor on Colouring Outside the Lines
Summoning
“Pink is the navy blue of India.”
Diana Vreeland
The hue of brides, appliquéd dark with henna.
Citron’s acid curl, vernal blades between teeth.
Beneath a virginal sky, weren’t we confections?
Pistachio and rosewater, saffron and cardamom,
greyed to drab by conker, navy and wine-bottle.
What we called home was only tarmac, ashes, dim
with tea stains, ink flecked. Candy-stripe days lost
under jalebi light. Slatted blinds slid shut against
Time, always stalking us. Her cape of night, lined
in clouds. When did colour seep from our blood?
Gita Ralleigh is a poet, writer and ex-doctor born to Indian immigrant parents in London. Her books are A Terrible Thing (Bad Betty Press)Siren (Broken Sleep Books) and Empirical (The Braag) She teaches creative writing at Imperial College.
LINES
Colour inside the lines. Line up. Underline. Straight line. Come online. Pickup line. Cross the line. Go offline. Decline. Keep in line. Don’t park on the yellow line. Sign on the dotted line. Meet your bottom line. Bee line. Snort a line. Shots in a line. Line dance. Deadlines. Front line. Firing line. Hook, line and sinker. Toe the line. Tread the fine line. Walk the line. Run lines. Poetic lines. Line breaks. Remember your lines. Fluffed your lines. One-liners. Setup and punchline. Deliver your lines. Fall in line. Crooked lines. Feed them some line. Line their pockets. Hotline. Throw them a line. Ass on the line. Hold the line. Blur the line. Clear the lines. End of the line. There are no lines…
Julian Matthews is a Malaysian poet published in 60 literary journals, anthologies and websites in 17 countries. http://linktr.ee/julianmatthews
paper chromatography
we shared a pipette
as part of the experiment
leaning into electron shudder
shoulder touching shoulder
observing the stutter-steps
of pigment
on white
paper : molecular
array of desire
paths
unstoppable
bleed
Jackie Taylor is a Cornwall-based writer of poetry and short fiction. Her short story collection, Strange Waters, was published by Arachne Press, and she holds an MLitt in Creative Writing from the University of Glasgow.
Jim Murdoch
I didn’t know what to do with all my dad’s love
so, I minded it for him fully intending to give it back one day.
Finola Scott
Such a knife, a real Et Tu Brute number. Bone handled, incisive. Decades of marriage
had whetted the blade to feather lean. Anniversaries marked in metal.
Sarah James/Leavesley
My mother’s knife made the first cuts –
she removed my fertile light bulbs,
then stuffed my womb with shredded tissues.
Max Wallis
god grant us the serenity / to accept the things we cannot change / the courage to change the / things we can / and the wisdom to know el differencio /
Play, National Poetry Day: Heather Hughes, Laura Webb, Jude Brigley
We searched so long for that clover.
Every time the sun shone we scoured
the fields and woods, running past
the children playing with skipping ropes
Play, For National Poetry Day: Suzanna Fitzpatrick, Charlotte Dormandy, Lee Fraser
10 Children dart in the dark, screamers
streaming sweets and neon, their parents
Play, for National Poetry Day: MD Bier, Catherine Sweeney, Rachel Burns
Those hot hot summer days. Hair curling against sticky clammy foreheads.
Pony tails, pig tails or braids. Keep it off our neck and backs.
Play, for National Poetry Day: Alexandra Corrin-Tachibana, Ruth Aylett , Brian Comber
They can imagine a forest,
we don’t need this minimalist tree,
we’ll represent a place to live without walls, without foundations or a hearth.
Play, for National Poetry Day: Jennifer A. McGowan, Judith Shaw, Robin Houghton, Wendy Klein
Over and over, you are Dorothy
or Glenda the Good,
me the Wicked Witch of the West