Today’s choice
Previous poems
Winifred Mok
Wildflowers
No one has ever told me to
Go back to where you came from
Perhaps it’s because
I look like
I’m just passing through
They know I know
I don’t look like I belong here
I fall into the category of guest
The perpetual rambler
A forever tourist
All’s fine: roaming landscapes
Of poppy, cornflower, ox-eye daisy
The native ecology of
Where I might have come from
Versus where I want to be
Winifred Mok is a poet, filmmaker and podcaster. Based in the UK, her writing has appeared in various publications, and her poetry has been shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize.
Note: Some wildflowers that are considered ‘native’ are actually neophytes — a plant introduced into an area relatively recently and has since become naturalised (in the context of the UK and Europe, this is defined from 1492).
Julie Egdell
At the shore of impossibility
last moments come to nothing
all our plans die in the salt air
of another new day on the black sea.
Elena Chamberlain
My trans friends and I just want to go swimming
in cold water
without a thousand eyes watching.
Regina Weinert
It was the snatch of a dream,
someone said this is not
what you do in the desert,
it was one precise thing, not a list . . .
Philip Dunkerley
We leave early, drive for two and a half hours,
park, find the church where you were married.
Marc Janssen
The sky opens
Blinking its single slackened eye.
Sigune Schnabel tr. Simon Lèbe
She cut letters out of me,
which quietly and unnoticed
danced red poems.
Pat Edwards
He is in white-out, stopped in his tracks,
dying for the comfort of a fag.
He makes a chalice around the flame,
hands becoming shield so he can light up.
Pamilerin Jacob
Annette the gap-toothed,
You kissed a man & I was born. You gave him
your laughter & he built an empire,
Fatihah Quadri Eniola
There is an album of all the men
your mother have loved. It sits every
night in the deep silence of the
basement.
