A Warm Breath


I falter
a lot

Today


I have been
asking questions

Lots of why questions
Some when questions
Lots and lots
of what now questions

And then I felt myself falter
Yet again

I think sometimes
something
as innocent
as a warm breath
can cause a loss
of balance

Yes


But also
a missed
Heartbeat

And so I falter
and catch myself
without waiting
for that warm breath
or a reason
for my heart to beat

Today
I am a lover

of me.

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Featured Publication – Metastatic by Jane Lovell

I was moved, impressed, and quite stricken with awe by these poems of Jane Lovell.

Our featured publication for February is Metastatic by Jane Lovell, published by Against the Grain Press.

Jane Lovell’s writing charts mysterious, unsettling trajectories: the invisible paths of bees, the journey of dead light, the routes found in folded and untied landscapes. These poems unmoor us, find beauty and strangeness in the everyday.’ Helen Mort

Jane Lovell’s poetry is rooted in the human body, which in turn is rooted in the earth, sheltered by the sky, and washed clean by the rain. This raw and unflinching collection reminds us that our lives are determined by natural processes, of which change and decay are as vital and relevant as new birth and growth.’ Katharine Norbury

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Thrush, Covent Garden, 1792

She has waited over two centuries
for sunlight, beak raised towards
the edge of the page

her nestful of eggs washed grey
and the song of lost days pressed

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Winter Again

The wind
is harsh
and cold
bending
barren branches
until
like grasping fingers
they touch
the frozen ground

I hold my breath
not wanting
to breathe
not wanting
to feel
cold
fill up
my lungs
my heart

I have
forgotten
how to bend
how to touch
the ground
with my
grasping
fingers

It is winter
again

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Words

Sometimes
the words
come rushing
racing
over troubled terrain
I am speechless
and drowning
in too many
words

Memories
are nothing
like now
I have no words
as I sit
on this fallen log
drawing
symbols
and signs
in the dark
earth
silent incantations
over lips
frozen
with forgotten desire

Alone
and yet
one more voice
in a Greek chorus
of voices

Accidental magic
and mayhem
wandering
among
broken words
looking
desperately seeking
mine

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If I Hold My Breath

If
I place my foot
just so

I make a hole

There is a place
at the end of my walk
that is an eternal puddle
sometimes a pond
but that may be
a dream

My ugly brown
boot
can make a hole
or a splash

or a dream

and I lose
myself
in thoughts
of microcosm/
macrocosm

and wonder
how many storms
did I start today

in my empty
universe

and if
I hold my breath

can I stop
the apocalypse

13 January 2019

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I Am Woman

Twirling
and swirling

and
I am
a teapot

dancing
and glancing

and clouds
looming
with promise
and gloom
and dark
coming

glamour
and magic
incantations
skirts trailing
the damp, dark
ground

Song
more sigh
than sound

the bird
in the bush
cocks its head
to listen

and I am reminded
I am woman

12 January 2019

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Thursday, 10 January

Words:

slow
listen
wait
gentleness

Thoughts of Gratitude:

I am grateful for those who listen

Today was silver and gray and sometimes a soft heather charcoal colour. It’s a season I forget about until it is here, these gray winter days.

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