Today’s choice

Previous poems

Abraham Aondoana

 

 

Inheritance of Smoke

We did not inherit land,
only remnants of fields they burned—
black fields scorched before we understood
what it meant to sow.
Fathers left us silence:
not of cruelty, but some shattering fear.
Growing up, we learned
to decipher flames as letters.
In family portraits, smoke curls,
ghosting over faces for whom
no one could name.
Discussing lineage,
we speak in burnt edges and shattered verses,
not gold— our legacy is ash—
a handful of heat passed down
from gnarled palm to trembling wrist.
A torch fashioned to sear
before it illumined the path.

 

Abraham Aondoana is a poet, novelist and scriptwriter. He holds a degree in law. He was recently longlisted for the Renard Poetry Press 2025. He enjoys reading and writing.

 

Julian Brasington

When one has lived a long time alone
and not alone your time become
someone’s history and you have grown
tired of yet another war and the world
has it in for you simply for being

Nick Browne

Woman in the water

I’m no Ophelia, that’s for sure crazy stuff is not my style,
no garland weeds around my head it’s spindrift foam not daisies.

Alexandra Corrin

Six weeks after diagnosis
 
I stayed away out of respect for your daughters.
You followed the hearse with your father and the girls.
 
He couldn’t stay within the boundaries of himself.

John Barron

Thought Experiment
 
The clock has lost all its numbers.
I wake inside an Einstein thought experiment,
where my bones defy gravity and get sucked
what some call “up.” I’ve only time to grab
from beside the bed where we’re sleeping
our copy of Rovelli’s ‘Reality Is Not What It Seems’

Mick Corrigan

My List Poem of the All-Important
 
Trish,
Kindness,
A small family of wildflowers announcing themselves in an abandoned pot,
Morning sun warming barley fields at Castletown House Estate,
A grounded fledgling glaring defiance as I gently inquire of her health,