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poetry

Three Poems

poetry

October 2019

Jenna Clake

poetry

October 2019

SELF-PORTRAIT AS THE OPENING OF A WINDOW ON A HOT MORNING   Three men carry a large snake home. This morning, the pantry was...

Poetry

Issue No. 26

DRAKE EQUATION

GBOYEGA ODUBANJO

Poetry

Issue No. 26

i’m running out of data on the train everyone is feeling particularly lonely it isn’t enough everyone & me...

Poetry

Issue No. 25

Two Poems

Charlotte Geater

Poetry

Issue No. 25

THREE DAYS   so it’s like, we shouldn’t press our cheeks together like we think / we know because...

Poetry

June 2019

Three Poems

Deryn Rees-Jones

Poetry

June 2019

EYES TO THE RIGHT, NOSE TO THE LEFT     I had heard wrong. Someone was weeping.   *...

Poetry

April 2019

Three Poems

Kim Moore

Poetry

April 2019

ALL THE MEN I NEVER MARRIED No.4     Last year at primary school, our last Sports Day and...

Poetry

March 2019

Three Poems

Joshua Judson

Poetry

March 2019

WARM UP   Imagine that you are chewing a piece of gum. Chew it. Focus on the thought of...

The Barbara Hepworth Blues

Poetry

Issue No. 24

NJ Stallard

Poetry

Issue No. 24

At the bottom of the garden, my mother and a woman dressed like Barbara Hepworth argue over a sculpture of my birth,   if...

Poetry

January 2019

Three Poems

Cole Swensen

Poetry

January 2019

THE KITE C. 1755   One doctor of lightning, floating on his back down a river held his kite...

1 Modotti, Adrienne Rich I am struck by the line If this is where I must look for you, then this is where I’ll find you I read it several times, scrawl it on a note and stick it to the wall In the seminar that week I mention the poem but no one else has read it, so the burden falls upon me to describe it, explain (unpack, as the tutor creatively says) why it is emotionally striking, and why in particular it was so significant to me Certainly I do not mention that we are, in fact, A It is the week of epitaphs and as the dead rise I am trying to put you to rest To call you a ghost is ungenerous, it is not your fault I am haunted I have been told I can trace your face through mine and so I have sought and found you, every now and again, in the fold of my eyelids, the curl of my lip and the bump of my nose December is the cruellest month, I whisper to my room, gazing at the mirror, fingertip on nose curve I have told no one that we are rapidly approaching the fifth anniversary of your death, or that this week is hell for   anyone who has experienced grief Instead I posit (tutor’s word, not mine) that reading it-self is an act of resurrection Should we abide by the notion that the text is the vi-brant and living space between reader and writer, then of course to read an epitaph, to engage in memorial, is to summon the ghost subject and renew its life Quick note in the corner of my sheet: Write about her We progress through assigned reading, onto Walter Benjamin: The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction We take it at face value initially, discuss our thoughts on art, then eventually begin to apply it to our epitaphs The word aura gains a spectral
Ways of Reading I

Poetry

November 2018

Aea Varfis-van Warmelo


 

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