Today’s choice
Previous poems
Kate Bonfield
May long weekend
Coming home to days of heat
trapped beyond the door, to time skewed
by time away, the house bigger and
smaller than before.
As if magnified, a hornet lies dead
by the baffling window
ridiculously detailed and weightless
in the new breeze, shifting.
Another dies nearby, tightens
to a comma then straightens, repeating
on a Domino’s flyer I use to take it outside.
I doubt it survived there.
This happened another May:
emerging in the old, cold room
taken in by green seen through glass,
the house stuffed solid with the shut-up noise
of their oversized hopelessness.
Kate Bonfield lives and works in Dorset.
Mark O’Connor
At half a tonne in weight
It was like the anchor –
Michael Mintrom
They lie deep in a forest, wounds
unseen, unhealed. Further back,
an escarpment with dark scars.
Thea Smiley
There’s a hiss as he eases himself in
to the green pool, steam in his smoky hair.
Roger Bonner
It’s forbidden to call it war.
We’re here to liberate you;
ignore the glide bombs as they roar.
Maryam Seyf
You and I sit
facing each other
in dialogue
across the table
Kerry Darbishire
Imagine a spring day drawing out possibilities
the newness of life, sisters in long skirts digging
tangled ground, breaking bones and loam wild
Paul Chuks
Newton didn’t discover gravity
The apple did.
Lola Dekhuijzen
the window is a derivative landscape
painting: streaks of blue for a sky,
Rupert Loydell
With the completion of mindset
my life is in order, two weeks after
the day before.