Today’s choice

Previous poems

Piers Haben

 

 

 

 

High-Visibility
The precondition for being a ghost is not only death but faith in an afterlife. Kit Fan.

When I lost loved ones last year
I thought my childhood fears would return.

Sleeping in mum’s house waiting
for the seen and felt,

the stupid spoon on the ouija board,
cold coming into a room.

Like when I swept offices, and ran
from the room with dummies in.

But now I find the absence more terrifying.
Oh god, maybe I don’t miss them enough.

Maybe the dead move amongst us
and we hurry through the ghost city,

like commuters, eyes down,
unaware of the cleaners coming home,

the men in high-vis jackets congregating
at the edge of the floodlit road.

 

 

Piers Haben is a British poet and recovering economist, currently living on Pico Island, Azores, where his writing explores the intersections of labour and island life, whilst also physically working with stone and soil. Piers was recently shortlisted for the 2025 Wolverhampton WoLF poetry competition.

Emily A. Taylor

I move my hand long
so yours will follow, and though
this moment tastes of tequila soda
paracetamol pillowed on a fizzing tongue
amnesia… pull me in anyway.

Steph Morris

No way would they let him keep that tag. They saw
a boy they must rename, must mark
from them, a boy whose limbs folded far too gently,

Eryn McDonald

It is here that the day breaks apart
Like ice on frustrated frozen pond
Here in the grounds of Ashton Court
I wish to bury myself amongst the green

Stephen Keeler

The days were huge and kind
and sometimes after school

we’d buy a bag of broken biscuits
for the long walk home

across the heavy heat of afternoon
on lucky days she wouldn’t take

the pennies offered up in supplication

Joseph Blythe

I swear I felt the swirly patterned paper
rip from the walls of my childhood bedroom.
It was the same stained cream shade as my skin –
pockmarked, cut and scabbed, dry and peeling…..

Denise Bundred

Shadowed boats bereft of sail
absorb the surge and slap
constrained by a blue-grey chink
of mooring chains.

Rahma O. Jimoh

A bird skirts across the fence
& I rush to the window
to behold its flapping wings—
It’s been ages
since I last saw a bird.

Samuel A. Adeyemi

I can already hear the chorus of my tribe.
They want the ancient blade,

the guillotine that hovered
above my head like a halo of death.