Today’s choice

Previous poems

Oliver Comins

 
 
 
Milk break, lunch break

Working the land on good days, after Easter,
people would hear the breaks occur at school,
children calling as they ran into the playground,
familiar skipping rhymes rising from the babble.
An ample fence stood between them and the farm
where their voices entwined with summer air,
sounds of village families, echoes of belonging.

Between the breaks, a country silence rose—
various nestling of feet in grass, a distant thuck
of axe on wood and that sibilance of leaves.
The school is closed now, converted, gone.
There are no breaks to freshen up the days
or disperse the background rumble of transport.
The hills are closing in, their strict rows of pine.
 
 
Oliver Comins recently returned to the Midlands after living in the Thames Valley and West London for many years. His poetry is collected by  The Mandeville Press and Templar Poetry.

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Tom Branfoot

      I work in a former abattoir code switching like it’s going out of fashion yawns sieved through my terrazzo mouth sunless mornings one bus every hour peopled with rage rainwaxed floors slippery as heritage once I would have cut myself like a...

Patrick Deeley

  Sean’s Ghost leans over the garden wall next the hairpin bend to hand me a rosy apple with the same gesture he himself showed of a stumblebum evening when I was a child making my way home after a bad day at school. Though the apple holds no substance now, and...

Sophia Argyris

  HERONLESS I look for him from the foot bridge    he's not in any of his usual places not mid-stream in shallows           not below the arch under the road not at the corner on a stony outcrop       the fishes are swimming undeterred and the day feels so...

Jessica Mookherjee

      Second Generation Upgrade I take an invisible dog on holiday to the coast, with raven feather tied to my hair and a new iphone in my bag, my passport is ready for a quick get away, and I must look a sight in these snow-boots and sunset skin. I ask...

Dane Holt

          Dane Holt’s poems have been published in Poetry Ireland Review, The Trumpet, The White Review, Stand, bath magg, One Hand Clapping , Anthropocene and elsewhere. He is poetry editor of The Tangerine, a Belfast magazine of new...

Jean O’Brien

      The Arrow that Flies by Day (Psalm 91) To my first readers I present fragments, half- rhymes, vowels, words, somewhere a metronome beats time and we split the line into syllables, metric feet, then come the myths and metaphors, music sounds near....

Julie Maclean

      I take a torch to 4am climb the stairs so I can be closer to the moon or Venus, something private, divine Moisture on the roof out of nowhere suggests autumn is creeping in like the possum whose red eyes in the beam are jewels of curiosity or fear...

Mark Blaeuer

      Harlan & Siv Euglena Harlan presides at our Church of Gullibility in the Vale, accused of murdering his younger self. Prosecutor Marat Siv arrays testimony, exhibits, arguments against the Judge-Who-Rules-at-Pulpit. During a recess, Siv...

Peter J Donnelly

      Auntie Joyce I knew your face when I saw you from the backseat window in the hospital car park where you stood talking to my dad, so I must have seen you before then. Perhaps at your son’s wedding, for you had to be there. I remembered you also...