Today’s choice
Previous poems
Robert Billinski
the sky and the water and the birds and the fish
(Inspired by Sky and Water I. 1938. Maurits Cornelis Escher)
the sky met the water where the birds met the fish
the sky met the water where the fish met the birds
the sky met the birds where the water met the fish
the sky met the birds where the fish met the water
the sky met the fish where the water met the birds
the sky met the fish where the birds met the water
the water met the sky where the birds met the fish
the water met the sky where the fish met the birds
the water met the birds where the sky met the fish
the water met the birds where the fish met the sky
the water met the fish where the sky met the birds
the water met the fish where the birds met the sky
the birds met the sky where the water met the fish
the birds met the sky where the fish met the water
the birds met the water where the sky met the fish
the birds met the water where the fish met the sky
the birds met the fish where the sky met the water
the birds met the fish where the water met the sky
the fish met the sky where the water met the birds
the fish met the sky where the birds met the water
the fish met the water where the sky met the birds
the fish met the water where the birds met the sky
the fish met the birds where the sky met the water
the fish met the birds where the water met the sky
the sky made the fish so they could swim in the water
the water made the birds so they could fly in the sky
the sky made the fish so they could frame the birds
the water made the birds so they could frame the fish
the fish made the sky for the birds to fly
the birds made the water for the fish to swim
the fish jumped in the sky and became the sky
the fish were the sky only swimming in the water
the birds dove in the water and became the water
the birds were the water only flying in the sky
Robert Bilinski is an amateur poet and train driver from Sheffield. He enjoys writing ekphrastic poetry and experimenting with formal styles.
K. S. Moore
Teenage years
everything begins
it never ends
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.