Today's poet

[Hes]

Fox Dancing

Tall as foxglove spire, on tiptoe
The fox in the wilderness dances;
His pelt and burnished claws reflect
The sun’s and the moon’s glances.

From blackberry nose to pride of tail
He is elegant, he is gay;
With his pawsteps as a pattern of joy
He transfigures the day.

For a hat he wears a rhubarb leaf
To keep his thinking cool,
Through which his fur-lined ears prick up.
This fox, he is no fool

And does not give a good-morning
For the condition of his soul:
With the fox dancing in the desert
Study to be whole.

Suzanne Knowles

(I once based a print on this too but its sold out now)

[Derby Tup]

I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured
a peninsula, wide enough
for a couple of ladderback chairs
to wobble on at high tide. I thought

of us in breathless cold, facing
a horizon round as a coin, looped
in a cat's cradle strung by gulls
from sea to sun. I planned to wait

till the waves had bored themselves
to sleep, till the last clinging barnacles,
growing worried in the hush, had
paddled off in tiny coracles, till

those restless birds, your actor's hands,
had dropped slack into your lap,
until you'd turned, at last, to me.
When I spoke of Patagonia, I meant

skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you

Patagonia by Kate Clanchy

[OneOffPoet]

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

[freckle]

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

Ooooo enigmatic indeed! I like this Oneoff...a lot..... but I am hoping there is a happy ending :-)

[freckle]

I said perhaps Patagonia, and pictured
a peninsula, wide enough
for a couple of ladderback chairs
to wobble on at high tide. I thought

of us in breathless cold, facing
a horizon round as a coin, looped
in a cat's cradle strung by gulls
from sea to sun. I planned to wait

till the waves had bored themselves
to sleep, till the last clinging barnacles,
growing worried in the hush, had
paddled off in tiny coracles, till

those restless birds, your actor's hands,
had dropped slack into your lap,
until you'd turned, at last, to me.
When I spoke of Patagonia, I meant

skies all empty aching blue. I meant
years. I meant all of them with you

Patagonia by Kate Clanchy

this is gorgeous..."skies all empty aching blue" ...just lovely...

Hes I loved your foxy poem and MG's original haiku...and I can never get enough Plath no matter how bleak!

[freckle]

I Climb the Western Tower in Silence (Joy of Meeting)

Li Yu


I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.

[Derby Tup]

One of the (many) joys of this thread is discovering writers you'd never heard of before and finding more of their work

Raspberries


The way we can’t remember heat, forget
the sweat and how we wore a weightless
shirt on chafing skin, the way we lose
the taste of raspberries, each winter; but

know at once, come sharp July, the vein
burning in the curtain, and from that light
- the block of sun on hot crushed sheets -
the blazing world we’ll walk in,

was how it was, your touch. Nor the rest,
not how we left, the drunkenness, just
your half-stifled, clumsy, frightened reach,
my uncurled hand, our fingers, meshed,

-like the first dazzled flinch from heat
or between the teeth, pips, a metal taste

Kate Clanchy

[Alf]

One of the (many) joys of this thread is discovering writers you'd never heard of before and finding more of their work

Raspberries


The way we can’t remember heat, forget
the sweat and how we wore a weightless
shirt on chafing skin, the way we lose
the taste of raspberries, each winter; but

know at once, come sharp July, the vein
burning in the curtain, and from that light
- the block of sun on hot crushed sheets -
the blazing world we’ll walk in,

was how it was, your touch. Nor the rest,
not how we left, the drunkenness, just
your half-stifled, clumsy, frightened reach,
my uncurled hand, our fingers, meshed,

-like the first dazzled flinch from heat
or between the teeth, pips, a metal taste

Kate Clanchy

Now that is a bit tasty and has set me up for the day

[Alf]

I Climb the Western Tower in Silence (Joy of Meeting)

Li Yu


I climb the western tower in silence, the moon like a sickle.
Clear autumn is locked in the deep courtyard, where a wutong tree stands lonely.
Sorrowful parting has cut, but not severed our ties; my mind is still wild.
Separation is just like a taste in head and heart.

You were an early bird this morning freckle

[Alf]

A poem inspired by what is essentially office gossip. Haven't written anything for a while as it seemed my stuff was really one dimensional (it's ok though, i only ever thought i'd write one poem, hence the username!) and was content to give it up for a while and read everyone else's offrerings. But it emerged today that a very good man at work had some very bad news this weekend and his life just got turned upside down. I wrote this at my desk (I know, such a skiver). It's a bit enigmatic (ok ok, vague), hence the explanation but it captures how it felt watching him today and having worked with him for the last year.


Mercy

This magnet of a man, stands six foot handsome
The corner office; takes home a king’s ransom
He even stands with a swagger, has the strut and the glide
A beautiful woman takes a place at his side
He works hard and works true, bends his mind and his back
Never hurt anyone either, no there isn’t a crack
He’s bulletproof, at least that’s how it seems
But everybody’s at the mercy of somebody’s dreams

I would say its just enigmatic enough to make you pause for thought Well done OOP.