Today’s choice
Previous poems
Andy Humphrey
Cine Reels
On screen, Dad was
the radical –
the introverted
pen-and-notepad kind,
donkey jacket, beard,
betrayed.
Another time
he played a photographer
eyeballing Liverpool –
statutes, pigeons, couples
out to lunch. Thieves
snapped in the act.
Our hometown Hollywood
never had
content warnings.
Murder
came in piano discords,
a hymn swelling to chorus;
death was a one-word
manifesto
crumpled, windblown.
Fin.
On screen,
they killed Dad.
We watched him die
over and over.
Andy Humphrey has published two collections of original poetry, A Long Way to Fall (Lapwing Press, ISBN 978-1-909252-40-0, 2013) and Satires (Stairwell Books, ISBN 978-1-939269-16-4, 2015). He lives in York and works as a solicitor. https://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/andyhumphrey.
Abegail Morley
Tonight, my houseplant child asks about sunlight,
brushes my arm as she stutters on the word,
photosynthesis . . .
Kathleen Gray
When she asked what I wanted
to be when I grew up, my mother
laughed when I said ‘free’
Viv Fogel
At the End of the Class
The young woman in a hijab thanked/praised/appreciated me
For all I had shown/ encouraged/ inspired in her
Asked whether I observed/ took part in/ celebrated Rosh Hashanah?
David Bernard
I wrote the title of the lesson on the board and underlined it with a flourish. The class listened to my introduction.
Colin Pink
I used to ‘see’ you when you were alive,
I mean when you weren’t there. I carry you
around like a photo in a wallet.
Lottie McCrindell
All summer the sun scorched the city
and the sky held back its tears.
Roz Doe
The night before,
I paced London’s streets
sparkling and fizzing with ideas
the pills used to dull and destroy.
I felt awake, alive.
Iris Anne Lewis
And so I went into the owl.
Eyes, green as moss,
darken to black. Oak tassels
spell-woven to feathers.
Nairn Kennedy
You notice the nose: webbed veins spritzed
with little flicks of red, purple blotches
daubed with a palette-knife, broken ends
where blood-vessels gave up the ghost.