My first attempt at a Villanelle - a traditional poetic form. For honest man inspired by this photo on his blog!

An Aberlady Sunset

What is sky and what is river

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The Rest and Be Thankful

On The Rest we lie

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Mousetrap

We set three then jumped ship.
Little scuttles, flesh and blood

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Removing some poems to work on!

Mobile

From the corner it watches her.
No song, no flashing lights

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Turn the Engine on

and take me anywhere but home.
Drive on to where the street lights end

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Short Book Review

Boudicca & Co by Jane Holland

I recently ordered Jane Holland's book of poems Boudicca & Co after reading one of the poems from it that she had published on her blog Raw Light. I managed to steal a bit of quiet time over the last few days to read it and I thoroughly enjoyed it, will definitely find myself going back to the poems time and time again as you do with good poetry.

The book is packed with 58 poems and split into 4 sections. What struck me immediately was the density of imagery and choice language that prevails through every line and the overwhelming sense of completeness with every single poem so that each one could stand alone independant of the sequence they inhabit.
There is a rich variety of subject matter - from Love Song for a Gargoyle (which has 'rough hoof' and 'tongue' in the same line and makes my mouth feel all funny every time I read it) to In Praise of Cannabis!
The poems are full of great images, I particulary like "A black rain of hand-grenades, / men down like dominoes " (First Assault) and "They lift you out through your necklace / of cord, slippery and indignant" (Twins).
The poems are engaging, thoroughly enjoyable, some serious and some full of fun but the poems of the final Boudicca sequence beg to be read - each poem throws you onto the next one which, like an exciting novel, you can't put down until you've read to the end.
So definitely a worthwhile read.

Sylvia Plath Reads Ariel

I just love youtube, it's great being able to hear poets reading their own work. I like this video, the voice is Plath's.

The Tracker

The Tracker

He dreams of fields of deer tracks,
hoof prints, rut marks on tree backs;

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Yes, it's been a while. I do apologise, however here's a poem I wrote tonight with which I'm reasonably pleased.

Girl collects signatures on Buchanan street

Talc-pale skin, thin legs
clad in tartan tights, feet shod

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Horizontal Star Jumper

In surrender you sleep
hands, palms open, raised

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Waiting

He’s climbing a castle ruin
at the top corner of the windscreen.

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