The whale that invented me is dying
The rescuers are unable to rescue him
and resign themselves to allow nature its course
and I wonder at that map
its invisible design where
..............................................we follow
...........,......................................................or are taken
the rocking, lulling eye so small
in the lolling bulk of blubber
too large to thrash, too moored to its own weight
Rolled again and again against the beach
until the flesh is sanded down to pink
the colour of my flesh
a crowd has gathered at the crashing edge to see
what it is to be an animal
..................................................so close to death
Seven tonnes heroically proportioned
If we had met on the water
if he surfaced and I hovered above the waves
would he have accepted me as his
creation or swallowed me as Zeus swallowed Metis
Now though he is dying and so I will not take my lantern
and my packed lunch
.................climb through the balein to the cave of his belly
I will not be reborn through this
Amanda Joy, Australia
Friday 28 May 2010
Monday 24 May 2010
Oil Spill by Justin Wade Thompson
there was an oil spill
in the Gulf of Mexico
and some counties in Florida
had been considered
to be in a state of emergency
my mother-in-law lives in Saint
Petersburg. my wife calls
it St. Pete
that
drives
.......me crazy
but i guess St. Pete wasn't affected.
my wife went back to sleep
slept until noon, in fact,
we'd stayed up late
watching medical dramas
not much else
to watch on the old tube
and i guess TVs don't have tubes
in them anymore
but we still call them that
hell, even the little TVs on the
internet are called tubes, right?
i wonder if they've got coverage
of the oil spill
black oil, bird soup
and dying flamingos stuck to dead stingrays and
all other sorts of carnage and death.
they cover it all, these days
every second every minute every hour on the hour
satellites stuck in the
black oil of space
screaming S.O.S. to the blue sky and sea
i trust the mother-in-law is well.
Justin Wade Thompson, Texas, USA
in the Gulf of Mexico
and some counties in Florida
had been considered
to be in a state of emergency
my mother-in-law lives in Saint
Petersburg. my wife calls
it St. Pete
that
drives
.......me crazy
but i guess St. Pete wasn't affected.
my wife went back to sleep
slept until noon, in fact,
we'd stayed up late
watching medical dramas
not much else
to watch on the old tube
and i guess TVs don't have tubes
in them anymore
but we still call them that
hell, even the little TVs on the
internet are called tubes, right?
i wonder if they've got coverage
of the oil spill
black oil, bird soup
and dying flamingos stuck to dead stingrays and
all other sorts of carnage and death.
they cover it all, these days
every second every minute every hour on the hour
satellites stuck in the
black oil of space
screaming S.O.S. to the blue sky and sea
i trust the mother-in-law is well.
Justin Wade Thompson, Texas, USA
Monday 17 May 2010
Phoenix by Russ Kazmierczak
the welder
wields lightning
a defibrillator
pressed against the city's chest
she spasms
gasping
it's working
she's coming out of the dark
passers-by stop in awe
as she rises
rises
sparks
still flying
Russ Kazmierczak, USA
wields lightning
a defibrillator
pressed against the city's chest
she spasms
gasping
it's working
she's coming out of the dark
passers-by stop in awe
as she rises
rises
sparks
still flying
Russ Kazmierczak, USA
Wednesday 12 May 2010
Piebald by Chris Crittenden
gyre of swifts
tangled in dizzy swoops
of black and white,
unstable
as aerial Celtic knots,
zestful as hummingbirds
beguiled by noon.
lust elates
their little chests,
makes them weave
like gears of a magic clock
until many of them
plummet
and the rest stream away,
leaving no signature.
Chris Crittenden, Maine, USA
tangled in dizzy swoops
of black and white,
unstable
as aerial Celtic knots,
zestful as hummingbirds
beguiled by noon.
lust elates
their little chests,
makes them weave
like gears of a magic clock
until many of them
plummet
and the rest stream away,
leaving no signature.
Chris Crittenden, Maine, USA
Friday 7 May 2010
Every time I see Swifts by Matthew Friday
I look up and fly with them. I am
up there, swarming and swerving,
screaming in delight. I am part-air,
part-sea: wind and waves wash through
me. I am a traveler who comes home.
I am light and free.
...................................................................I am swift.
Matthew Friday, UK
up there, swarming and swerving,
screaming in delight. I am part-air,
part-sea: wind and waves wash through
me. I am a traveler who comes home.
I am light and free.
...................................................................I am swift.
Matthew Friday, UK
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