Today’s choice
Previous poems
Tadhg Carey
Pivotal
When our plaything ricochets
falling
who knows where
everything hinging
on the line
there is a precise moment
when nothing is certain
a glorious terrifying uncontrollable
wait
the receptacle of our hopes
poised mid-
air with infinite trajectories
across the open field of possibility
time is slowed to an inhalation
and as I write this I am helpless
as an onlooker watching
from the sidelines
open-
mouthed
on the threshold of expression
not knowing where this will all end
nor what will follow the breaking
of the line
Tadhg Carey is a writer from Ireland. He is a Shared Island Freedom to Write Project awardee, was selected for the Cúirt International Festival New Writing Showcase, and was highly commended in the Fool for Poetry International Chapbook competition.
Becky Cherriman
What does it wake me to
as sky is hearthed by morning
and my home warms slow?
Mark Carson
he dithers round the kitchen, lifts his 12-string from her hook,
strikes a ringing rasgueado, the echo bouncing back
emphatic from the slate flags and off the marble table.
Elizabeth Worthen
This is how (I like to think) it begins:
night-time, August, the Devon cottage, where
the darkness is so complete . . .
Elly Katz
When naked with myself, I feel where a right elbow isn’t, then is. I let my left palm guide me through the exhibition of my body.
Laurence Morris
The night of his arrest I climbed a hill
to find a deep cave in which to hide
Sarp Sozdinler
As a kid, Nehisi used to sleep in a treehouse. He could curl right into it from his bedroom window. He would have a hard time falling asleep every time his parents got loud or physical.
Three poems on Counting for National Poetry Day: Max Wallis, Julie Anne Jenson, Brian Kelly
I don’t wear them
or have any
but you gave me a pair
of seven-inch goth platform heels.
Fizza Abbas
They say change is a constant,
but this constant became a coefficient
always racing to catch me
Scott Elder
What will you do in winter dear when drifts
cover your fingers and shoes