Today’s choice
Previous poems
Robert Billinski
the sky and the water and the birds and the fish
(Inspired by Sky and Water I. 1938. Maurits Cornelis Escher)
the sky met the water where the birds met the fish
the sky met the water where the fish met the birds
the sky met the birds where the water met the fish
the sky met the birds where the fish met the water
the sky met the fish where the water met the birds
the sky met the fish where the birds met the water
the water met the sky where the birds met the fish
the water met the sky where the fish met the birds
the water met the birds where the sky met the fish
the water met the birds where the fish met the sky
the water met the fish where the sky met the birds
the water met the fish where the birds met the sky
the birds met the sky where the water met the fish
the birds met the sky where the fish met the water
the birds met the water where the sky met the fish
the birds met the water where the fish met the sky
the birds met the fish where the sky met the water
the birds met the fish where the water met the sky
the fish met the sky where the water met the birds
the fish met the sky where the birds met the water
the fish met the water where the sky met the birds
the fish met the water where the birds met the sky
the fish met the birds where the sky met the water
the fish met the birds where the water met the sky
the sky made the fish so they could swim in the water
the water made the birds so they could fly in the sky
the sky made the fish so they could frame the birds
the water made the birds so they could frame the fish
the fish made the sky for the birds to fly
the birds made the water for the fish to swim
the fish jumped in the sky and became the sky
the fish were the sky only swimming in the water
the birds dove in the water and became the water
the birds were the water only flying in the sky
Robert Bilinski is an amateur poet and train driver from Sheffield. He enjoys writing ekphrastic poetry and experimenting with formal styles.
Britta Giersche
a wooden door slams shut in my brain
a man perishes in a space the size of his grave from malnutrition eighty years ago
Abby Crawford
When I was born
the house was full
of stones, an old blacksmiths shed.
Rachael Clyne
And if a land loses its people and they
are exiled will a land feel their absence
Tom Nutting
They have been burying us,
not realising
we were seeds
of revolution.
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
Gordan Struić
Outside,
the city slides by,
blurred lines
of glass and rain.
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