Today’s choice
Previous poems
Day Two of ‘Wonder’ for NPD: Geraldine Stoneham, Guinevere Clark and Annette Skade
egg
her first was almost translucent
light brown with dark freckles
laid in the pot of a dying nasturtium
a virgin birth in a pile of hay
dropped and abandoned
like it was nothing special
Geraldine Stoneham lives in South Australia after spending her working life in the UK. She has been writing poetry for 7 years and has been published in Ink, Sweat &Tears amongst other magazines
Matryoshka
I stop reading
but learn the alphabet again,
live on boiled eggs, phonetics,
broccoli heads,
swap my time
for stacking,
dandelions, balls,
you – gently hardening
into your whorls,
learning not to kill snails
or break
a flower’s first curl.
I button your centre,
that warm kernel of love,
knowing there is no morning
that will give me the same child.
Doll-son, lashes of feathers,
softening to night,
I’ll sing,
sing while you sleep
on all that we have accomplished.
Guinevere Clark is a poet, editor, and creative producer. A Forward Prize nominee and Hammond House international poetry prize winner, her work appears widely. She holds a Creative Writing PhD and is Founder of Poetry Into Light CIC.
Hale-Bopp
Hale-Bopp orbits the sun once every 2534 years.
The comet last reached perihelion in April 1997.
In the same space — millennia apart — an overlay.
On the threshold of a home built of the stone she walks on,
this woman / that woman wraps arms around her middle,
watches a new brilliance in the blackness, wonders
what comes next
This woman / that woman clutches at the familiar,
the rising falling chest of a just tucked in child,
thud of cattle hooves on the sea’s backbeat,
the clench re-clench to her stomach.
blood turmoil sacrifice
Ears stay alert to all that surrounds
but her eyes must look up.
She is helpless under it,
this star / no star / this axe between the shoulder blades.
run her body says run
Annette Skade’s two books of poetry are Thimblerig, (2013) and the eco-poetry book Holdfast, (2024). Poems appear in journals in Ireland, Australia, the UK and US, Current work concerns Dark Skies, and how light pollution threatens biodiversity and human relationships with the night.
Gary Akroyde
We searched for it
through the tarmac in every rain-bruised sky
in dark Pennine shadows where great mills
spewed out ringlets of ghost-grey fog
Nathan Curnow
I like to think it’s a story about himself and Einstein
floating in zero gravity, Albert sailing through the capsule
toward his drifting pipe, Brian playing We Will Rock You—
Paul Short
Sleep.
Elusive as lucid dreams.
Closed eyes teem wotsit-orange,
spiderweb scarlet &
thatch-brown
Ash Bowden
Out again with the pitchfork churning
compost into the old green bin, stinking
and silent as an ancient earthen vat.
Mallika Bhaumik
This is not a frilly, mushy love letter
to a city whose allure lies in defying all labels and holding the mystery key to a man’s heart, though none has ever been able to lay an absolute claim on it,
Jena Woodhouse
Around midnight, the hour when pain
reasserts its dominance, a voice
behind the curtain screening
my bed from the next patient’s:
an intonation penetrating abstract thoughts
Kate Bailey
They’ve mended the park fence again,
patched it over with the usual ugly metalwork,
like a riot barricade.
Ibrar Sami
Across the barren land
where blood once played its savage Holi,
the fearless migratory birds
have returned again.
Anyonita Green
It wobbles slightly, red wine jelly.
I peer at it, nose close enough
to smell the iron, the scent of coagulant,
inhaling through slightly parted lips