Reading Chinese poetry
Ideograms dance before
Eyes like inky kids
Sleepy, time, time
Forgotten music from years
Long, long in the past
Category: Poetry
Categories
In their art
Retreat everywhere! Practical June
Will look at blackouts.
Learn from the opportunity-
You will make material poems
Regularly and utterly fascinating.
Under deep metal with Philip
Discover magical humans
Trace the dazzling and dark consequences
In various homeland hotspots as did
Parson, Goethe, Blake and Marie Curie
Cornish ghost landscapes erupt at Falmouth-
Talk about inspiration!
Convince Cornish writers to paint!
Short ghosts here costing £6
Penzance legends at the Pixel
Linda has books and local visitors and time lords,
Including Sir Humphry Davy
Pirates and St Anthony.
Unlock the power of the unconscious
With Jenny.
Write a regular modern mass app
Experience and chance a random walk non-fiction encounter.
Categories
Two poems of Cavafy’s
I’ve just translated a couple of Cavafy’s poems, both on historical themes. The first one is a fictional tomb inscription for a young Alexandrian youth called Iasis; Iasis’s tomb Here lie I, Iasis, a youth of this great cityfamed for his beauty.Wise men admired me and also thoughtless,ordinary people. I’m equally glad for both of […]
Two poems of Cavafy’s
Categories
A Garden Of Wilted Flowers
The air hangs heavy in here, emotions swirl like ghosts, untouched and silent. As I enter this graveyard; a forgotten graveyard of gardens, these wilted plants stand solemn sentinel, bringing back memories long buried. Some flowers ache with broken promises, their petals curled like lips that never spoke the truth. Others hang heavy with bonds […]
A Garden Of Wilted Flowers
Categories
Walking Bare
I wasn’t made
for straight roads.
My bones remember
bare earth,
the breath before
the leap.
We walk stiff now—
feet wrapped in slaughter
and stolen skin.
Even the ground
pulls away.
But some nights
when the house forgets
to hum,
I move softer—
past walls,
past memory,
into a place
where trees
still whisper.
And for a moment,
I sense them—
my fur and blood,
the wild hunt.
In the back of my throat
a howl rises.
I wasn’t madefor straight roads.My bones rememberbare earth,the breath beforethe leap. We walk stiff now—feet wrapped in slaughterand stolen skin.Even the groundpulls away. But some nightswhen the house forgetsto hum,I move softer— past walls,past memory,into a placewhere treesstill whisper. And for a moment,I sense them—my fur and blood,the wild hunt.In the back of my throata […]
Walking Bare
Categories
‘Huesca’ by John Cornford
Heart of the heartless world, Dear heart, the thought of you Is the pain at my side, The shadow that chills my view. The wind rises in the evening, Reminds that autumn is near. I am afraid to lose you, I am afraid of my fear. On the last mile to Huesca, The last fence […]
‘Huesca’ by John Cornford
Categories
Poetry of Movement
Categories
penwithlit 