Category: Poems

  • Advent[ures] in Incarnation [3] | Advent Poem | Caesarean Sections

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    Caesarean Sections The bitter old man stands at the gates of the earth waiting, watching, guarding the only entrance and exit to this citadel planet. The babies file in and the dead file out and he watches them, grimly keeping count. He watches, he waits he shivers to shake tired cold from old limbs, for…

  • Remembrance Day Poem | We Should F-ing Remember Them

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    Remembrance Day Poem With our scalpels and injections, We shall not grow old, as those that are left behind grow old With our prozac and uppers, our sweetened memories and revisionist histories Age shall not weary us, nor the years of war condemn At the going down of the sun and in the morning We…

  • #NationalPoetryDay – Pressure

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    It’s National Poetry Day. I scoured my files for something I’d written recently that probably wouldn’t find an airing anywhere else, and decided on this. A sad poem, written on hearing of a friend of someone I teach who’d been paralysed while diving in the sea in Portugal. I’ll not say more than that. Pressure…

  • New Poem | Small Screen Communion

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    Small Screen Communion iPod, phone held close and thumbed, reflecting so dimly on lichened branches fingering the above, are such small lights on these paths at night. What possible guidance could they offer? Yet still I look, still we look, so intently at their ever-decreasing thinness and ask of them the same as wafers once…

  • New Poem: Beaten Tracks

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    Beaten Tracks On the sleepers between Forest Hill and Brockley broken rails are lain down, flanked by the tidy parallels of clean-humming steel tracks. They are tensile failures, pieces and fractures, all angles and rough edges, serving brittle punishment for going out of line and giving in when the wheels rolled their backs. © KB…

  • A Poem in Five Minutes Between Bells

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    A Poem in Five Minutes Between Bells In these few moments after the silence grows from the stilling clanger and before the pulsing switch-gear of the restless clock brings again noise and movement, I will sit. I will take this time, set it out, as on a tray and arrange its pieces and make something:…