Today’s choice

Previous poems

Jon Miller

 

 

 

Moving In

The upper floor of the old byre
a darkness made of owl-stare—
its blink drinks you in.

A scythe hung under the last gasp
of a rafter. An armchair sprouts
the beards of men who died in it.

The skylight a cataract woven
by funnel-spiders; a car roof-box
full of barbells and throwing knives

and scattered across creaking planks
that any moment might give—
fur balls, owl pellets, rickles of tiny bones.

As I descend the ladder each worn tread
a hand cupping my foot: take care take care
says the dust in my hair, you live here now.

 

 

Jon Miller was shortlisted for the Wigtown Poetry prize, was winner of the Neil Gunn Poetry competition and was one of the winners of the International Book and Pamphlet Competition in 2022. His latest pamphlet Past Tense Future Imperfect is published by Smith|Doorstop.

Luigi Coppola

Out of ten bars, by the fifth, half of us had flickered
out and by this ninth one, it ended up just him
and me. A matchstick balanced on a stool, he sat

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—