I dream of London’s buried waterways,
how the Tyburn crashes through Westminster
trammelled by culverts, a ghost of a ghost.
Bury me somewhere nameless. Let the days
settle underneath leaves. Open the ground,
bury me deeper this time. Let me fall
down where the rivers meet so I can feel
the current without knowing. There’s no sound,
no marble echoes to remember me,
no evidence of parting nor that place
where we are told the waters surface.
I’ll be there when the stream becomes a sea
composed of driftwood, pauses and intent:
beyond the shore, where the waves are silent.
‘Poets’ Corner’ was shortlisted in the 2013 Live Canon International Poetry competition.
Stars hang briefly in the wind,
sand scatters above a youthful sea.
Not even the sky is permanent
however much it seems to be.
Good waves are only ridden once,
never if something’s on your mind.
So much happens in every moment.
So much depends on what we find.
I think I’ll start meditating consistently again. Sometimes I’ve noticed that meditation gives me a feeling like that of being on holiday. (I suspect that the operative word there is ‘being’). It’s only three days into a week off work that I feel relaxed enough to understand my life as a whole, rather than a series of milestones. I think I often mistake this feeling and attribute it to fine dining, alcohol, good weather… or a view of the sea: an unanswerable expanse which makes us feel calm or reflective or alive depending on its own mood.
I’ve also noticed, when meditating, that a memory will often appear out of nowhere. I’m not sure whether this is the busy mind attempting to reassert control, or a kind of reward: the still waters of the mind allowing a peaceful image to surface instead of their usual boisterous demands. This morning the memory was of my seventeen year old self playing computer games in my bedroom with my brother at Christmas. Final Fantasy VII for me, Quake II for him. That’s all. I might record some of these memories here.
Here are some brief videos of poems from The Inner Sea filmed on a beach in Cornwall.
Joe Franklin, Hugh Greasley and I are releasing an anthology of our poetry today, The Inner Sea. A printed pamphlet is available (contact me for details) but, for convenience, we’ve also created a pdf to be freely circulated on the web.
If you enjoy the poetry, please pass it on to your friends. In case you’d like to do something similar, I thought I’d quickly outline how we created the pamphlet here.
- The Inner Sea was typeset using free, open source software: Scribus.
- The pamphlet was printed by Book Printing UK, who were very helpful, reasonably priced and efficient. We used 300gsm card for the cover (full colour), 80gsm paper (black and white) for the interior.
- The cover painting is Hugh’s own Equinox Tide, Hayle. You can see more of his art at Hugh Greasley
We needed a banner to fly under and given our tragi-comic affinity with the coast but distance from it, we settled for Landlocked Press.
One perhaps selfish oversight was the lack of an acknowledgements page. We asked Brian Evans-Jones, Hampshire Poet 2012, to write a foreword and he graciously returned something that perfectly defines the project and the time and place in which it all fell together. Proof-reading was undertaken by ourselves and very diligent partners and friends, whom we would like to thank.
I would also like to thank Joe and Hugh. It was Joe who brought our triumvirate together and Hugh’s idea, as I remember, to make our own anthology. Our work in progress and pamphlet planning sessions in Winchester have made what can be a very solitary pursuit much fun. So cheers all, on we go to the next!
“Three quite different styles and sensibilities overlap in this book; let yourself sink into them, seeing what each current brings.” — Brian Evans-Jones, Hampshire Poet 2012.
“Elegant work.” — Stephen Boyce.