Poem of the day

Palindrome

by Andre Thomkins

13 May

A Song

by Laetitia Pilkington

12 May

Rose

by Aqeel Ali

The Rose grows gracefully in nature,

breathing the pure fresh air,

drinking the cool rainwater.

The rose is a delight to look at,

it brings a joy to my heart.

The rose gives a wonderful scent,

the rose I believe should be protected,

the rose should not be frightened.

The rose should be allowed the space, time and freedom to grow,

the rose should not be left isolated or alone.

Is there such a rose in your family?

 

11 May

Evening Primroses

by David Constantine

They open the way this little porth 

Fills up under the window: 

Quietly unstoppably, but are

 

Not pulled by the moon, the dullest twilight 

Works them deep enough 

And the damp imago clambers into the air.

 

This I had patience for, this I could watch 

Through all the starts and restings 

And even when they looked to be hovering on witholding

 

Then my credence 

That I had feared dead in its clamped shell 

Beckoned them further out.

 

It bowed me again into the aura of your face 

Again into the scent of what it feels like 

When love, frail thing,

 

Forces itself into being seen, the unstoppable 

Helpless, the unbelievable 

Beginning to be believed

 

Whose opening scent is like 

Warmth off the moon 

Or the cold off your face when you entered my house and home

 

Sweet love, sweet breath of it 

From these tall flowers, from their pale faces 

Opened on the air, earthy. 

 

10 May

Western Wind

by Anonymous

9 May

Odysseus meets the daughters and wives of warriors

by A K Blakemore

a place of backward -

slow pace of light, to move

as if dragging a sumptuous cloak

& searing memoir

as if whole facility

 

the oak grew dark and close

 

so like ideas

around his sump of blood

or shining like that, having never found friendship

 

that felt as good as music did

 

8 May

Sunstroke

by Kim Hye Soon

Get submerged

Get submerged in the blazing sun

Get submerged in the rippling blazing sun

Hear something as I get submerged in the rippling blazing

   sun

Hear something then don’t hear then hear again as I get

   submerged in the rippling blazing sun

It’s like the voice of someone confessing while shaking softly

   boiling sand

It’s the voice I have wanted to hear for a thousand years

Hear something then don’t hear then hear again then don’t

   again as I get submerged in the rippling blazing sun

Lie down

Lie down on the floor of the blazing sun

Lie down on the cold floor of the blazing sun

It is so hot that the cold floor of the blazing sun sweats

The sweat of the cold floor of the blazing sun is like a knife

   blade

Among the knife-like drops of sweat from the cold floor of

   the blazing sun the tiny knives that are barely visible beat

   against my ears

The sound of knocking on the eardrums doesn’t tear the

   eardrums that are about to tear

The faraway beating sound comes from faraway, faraway like

   an echo

Let me in, let me in, let me in the sound is so faint that it

   pleads with its needle-like hands

As eyes open a flock of crows darts out from my ears their

   beaks poke at my pupils