Today’s choice

Previous poems

Abby Crawford

 

 

 

Stonevale

When I was born
the house was full
of stones, an old blacksmiths shed.
Rubble became walls,
became home.
I used a brush as tall as me
to brush debris, dust, oyster shells.
In my blue gingham dress and boots.
We lived down from the street,
by the river, where the cloud god
threw his towel over the sun
and light took on the muteness
of a sound proofed room.
At the bottom of the water
one hundred fishes in unison
told me this was the beginning.

 

Abby Crawford is a poet and interdisciplinary artist based in Devon, UK. She has been published online in journals and received a commended in the Crysse Morrison prize 2023. She is currently working on her first pamphlet. Website: https://linktr.ee/abbymcrawford

Mai Ishikawa

    Taxi I took shelter under a tree, where you also sheltered. You looked at me awkwardly, as if to say Excuse me before shaking your feathers – a tiny droplet landed on my cheek. Suspended, we held each other responsible for the silence. We listened to the...

Lue Mac

Sad how things expire before you work out
what they mean. Like earlier I was noticing
the rose petals on the path, all damp and slick,

Alice O’Malley-Woods

For the Peregrines of Offham Chalk Pit The quarry holds your eyrie like a grateful palm. You - indelicate gobber all gape and gum-pink circled in the beach white like a mouth stuck in wonder. O spit-shrieker coming back for yourself, tearing fur so diligently, never...

Lori D’Angelo

The cat puts his paw on my hair, and I think about
where we could go if we weren’t here. Maybe the
nail salon, which seems like a good destination for
kill time Saturdays.

Lucy Wilson

Dear Fish, you swam from life and gave your flesh; forgive me.
In your ice-tomb, your scales a rainbow of tiny glaciers, frozen in flight;
like you, I let myself get caught, sank my heart in a false sea.

Cliff McNish

Heaven For starters, the standard works everyone gets: three trumpets blown in unison; your name acclaimed to the galactic hegemony of stars; plus assorted angels with ceramically smooth hands (the nail-work!) casting wholesale quantities of petals (flowers of the...

Paul Stephenson

Rhubarb after Norman MacCaig And another thing: stop looking like embarrassed celery. It doesn’t suit. How can you stand there, glittery in pink, some of you rigid, some all over the shop? Deep down you’re marooned, a sour forest spilling out beneath a harmful canopy....