Today’s choice
Previous poems
Neil Elder
High Hopes
There are blackbirds singing beautifully at dawn,
Mozart and Shakespeare existed and that’s fine,
but each morning, I pray a new miracle
will find its way into existence;
elephant birds discovered deep in Madagascar,
a cure for six awful diseases, or perhaps
some world leader gets assassinated –
any of these are fine.
This morning I found a clean shirt,
the milk at breakfast hadn’t gone off,
I got out of the house on time,
there was just a light drizzle,
my train arrived; I found a seat.
The day was full of miracles.
Neil Elder has several publications to his name, and is hoping to add another if and when his luck changes. He lives in London looking for sparkle among chaos.
Steven Taylor
A very long time ago
Stephen Fry’s godfather, the
Justice, Sir Oliver Popplewell
Who chaired the inquiry
Into the Bradford City
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.
Ansuya Patel
except this burnt red vase.
Hand shaped in the muffled roar,
devouring flame in the furnace’s mouth.
Hannah Ward
Look, Drew, the
plums are in
pieces beneath
us. I dreamt:
Andrea Small
a flower is not a heron
does not stand on one leg
spear-billed over golden carp
Usha Kishore
At dawn and dusk, my father
becomes a chant, that flies above
the courtyard of the old house
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