Mailing List


Eleanor Rees
Eleanor Rees is the author of four collections of poetry. Her most recent is The Well at Winter Solstice (Salt, 2019) and her fifth collection Tam Lin of the Winter Park, in which these poems will appear, is forthcoming from Guillemot Press in May, 2022. Eleanor is senior lecturer in creative writing at Liverpool Hope University and lives in Liverpool.

Articles Available Online


Three Poems

Poetry

April 2022

Eleanor Rees

Poetry

April 2022

ESCAPE AT RED ROCKS   I am the colour of the outside, a stillness moving like a winter tide, a new shoreline in formation,...

poetry

September 2012

Mainline Rail

Eleanor Rees

poetry

September 2012

Back-to-backs, some of the last, and always just below the view   a sunken tide of regular sound west...

Establish remorse from outset Express bewilderment at sequence of events so unlikely, so absurd and catastrophic Assure all present of blemish-free record, respect for civic infrastructure, fondness for quiet life and simple pleasures (milkless Earl Grey, sensation of shower on collarbone scar, smell of wet denim, etc) Adopt strong posture, upright but unhaughty, chin raised to illustrate mettle Remain composed Nod solemnly when alleged acts detailed Promise to provide context in form of days preceding—disorientating effect, toll inflicted on sense of self/place in grand scheme/professional trajectory Blame said effect for alleged recklessness, surrendering to moment, abandonment of principles (loyalty, punctuality, even keel, modesty, graft, appropriate attire, camaraderie) Downplay partiality for music, arts Highlight childhood aptitude in mathematics, science Maintain eye contact to correct extent, avoid long monologues   Declare intention to act as own legal counsel Suggest deep knowledge of judicial protocol less important than conveying modern life’s near-infinite complexity, pressures of which intolerable Use as evidence images chanced upon recently of Earth from space, utterly dark but for luminous streaks—flight paths, arcing and meshing across planetary surface, brightest over teeming cities such as ours, sparsest over distant wildernesses beckoning like empty rooms at party hosted by enemy How to contend? How remain steady before visions so stunning, quotidian routine rendered (meaning-wise) scant? How defecate, shower, shave face, commute, toil, defer to superiors, remain polite at sandwich outlet when handsome, better-dressed, wealthier man barges past holding forth into hands-free set, causing spillage of expensive scalding-hot beverage onto newly-purchased, freshly-ironed shirt?   Resist digression   Expect prosecution to roll out photograph Contemplate image, wince, tilt head Express respect for Bill Pointer and work—recall The Singing Dunes tattered copy on Uncle Steve coffee table, youthful hours lost in pages, disbelief such places/people real, magnificence of world revealed Voice regret current incarceration prevents visit to Pointer retrospective at V&A State desire to encounter Pointer, shake hand, thank sincerely With rueful smile relate compulsive maternal scrapbooking of every traceable picture appearance across international print media—three scrapbooks required, fourth purchased as precaution Remark on poignant comparison with Robbie’s Achievements Book, maintained by mother throughout boyhood, pages stuffed with house-point cards,

Contributor

August 2014

Eleanor Rees

Contributor

August 2014

Eleanor Rees is the author of four collections of poetry. Her most recent is The Well at Winter Solstice...

Crossing Over

poetry

September 2012

Eleanor Rees

poetry

September 2012

As he sails the coracle of willow and skins his bird eyes mirror the moon behind cloud. Spring tide drags west but he paddles...

READ NEXT

Art

March 2014

Amy Sillman: The Labour of Painting

Paige K. Bradley

Amy Sillman

Art

March 2014

The heritage of conceptualism and minimalism leaves a tendency to interpret a reduction in form as intellectually rigorous. If...

feature

June 2014

Hoarseness: A Legend of Contemporary Cairo

Youssef Rakha

feature

June 2014

U. Mubarak It kind of grows out of traffic. The staccato hiss of an exhaust pipe begins to sound like...

fiction

January 2015

Adventures in Immediate...

Max Blecher

TR. Michael Henry Heim

fiction

January 2015

I can picture myself as a small child wearing a nightshirt that comes down to my heels. I am...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required