One of the elements of living in a new place is finding the right place to do your shopping! Thankfully I have found a wonderful vegetable supplier who delivers a box of fruit and veg. I never know what is in the box – and was surprised to find corn last week! It reminded me […]
Fountain
Posted on by James Woodward
fountain Up from the bronze, I saw Water without a flaw Rush to its rest in air, Reach to its rest, and fall. From Louise Brogan, Roman fountain
the genius of Angelou
Posted on by James Woodward
temple We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple and comes into our sight to liberate us into life. We are weaned from our timidity In the flush of love's light we dare be brave And suddenly we see that love costs all […]
What love sees is true?
Posted on by James Woodward
St. John tells how, at Cana’s wedding feast, The water-pots poured wine in such amount That by his sober count There were a hundred gallons at the least. It made no earthly sense, unless to show How whatsoever love elects to bless Brims to a sweet excess That can without depletion overflow. Which […]
what we do?
Posted on by James Woodward
don’t go back to sleep Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don’t go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep. People […]
The Marvelous
Posted on by James Woodward
The annals say: when the monks of Clonmacnoise Were all at prayers inside the oratory A ship appeared above them in the air. The anchor dragged along behind so deep It hooked itself into the altar rails And then, as the big hull rocked to a standstill, A crewman shinned and grappled down […]
Joy
Posted on by James Woodward
Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands And take it when it runs by, As the Apache dancer Clutches his woman. I have seen them Live long and laugh loud, Sent on singing, singing, Smashed to the heart Under the ribs With a terrible love. Joy always, Joy everywhere– Let joy kill […]
Seeing?
Posted on by James Woodward
amazement is the thing The point is the seeing, the grace beyond recognition, the ways of the bird rising, unnamed, unknown, beyond the range of language, beyond its noun. Eyes open on growing, flying, happening, and go on opening. Manifold, the world dawns on unrecognizing, realizing eyes. Amazement is the thing. Not love, […]
Space
Posted on by James Woodward
the gap between What do they do, The singers, tale writers, dancers, painters, Shapers, makers? They go there with empty hands, into The gap between. They come back with things in their hands. They go silent and come back with words, with tunes. They go into confusion and come back with patterns. They […]
O glistening sunlight
Posted on by James Woodward
O glistening sunlight, O iridescence, O unique shining, The wedding of the Godhead: O burning jewel. The clothes you wear are noble They fall straight and clear; Your friendship is with angels: A citizen of the sacred. Come, enter into the palace of the King. Hildegard of Bingen
I said to my soul
Posted on by James Woodward
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre, The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness, And we know that the hills […]
Love after Love
Posted on by James Woodward
the time will come when with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other’s welcome and say, sit here. Eat You will love again the stranger who was yourself Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the […]
Darkness:orange
Posted on by James Woodward
I listened in emptiness on the moor-ridge. The curlew’s tear turned its edge on the silence. Slowly detail leafed from the darkness. Then the sun Orange, red, red erupted Silently, and splitting to its core tore and flung cloud, Shook the gulf open, showed blue, And the big planets hanging. . From Ted […]
Sky, Air, Light
Posted on by James Woodward
sky, air, light A certain day became a presence to me; there it was, confronting me–a sky, air, light: a being. And before it started to descend from the height of noon, it leaned over and struck my shoulder as if with the flat of a sword, granting me honor and a task. The […]
Blueness
Posted on by James Woodward
blueness Reach me a gentian, give me a torch let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness. even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September to the sightless realm where darkness was awake upon the dark […]
Water
Posted on by James Woodward
Water If I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail a fording To dry, different clothes; My litany would employ Images of sousing, A furious devout drench, And I should raise in the east A glass of water Where any-angled light Would […]
Yes?
Posted on by James Woodward
rejected things After the final no there comes a yes And on that yes the future world depends. No was the night. Yes is this present sun. If the rejected things, the things denied, Slid over the western cataract, yet one, One only, one thing that was firm, even One thing remaining, infallible, […]
The new Poet Laureate
Posted on by James Woodward
The excitement of welcoming the first woman to the post of poet laureate is similar to the emotion with which a supporter of an under-rated football team greets a goal. Then, of course, for both genders, there’s the moral satisfaction, and political buzz, in seeing the re-balancing of old inequalities. Women poets worth honouring […]
In Praise of…
Posted on by James Woodward
An extraordinarily rich and wonderful poet UA Fanthorpe Photo: UPPA She did not see herself as a serious contender. In fact, she made her preference clear in a poem, Petition of the Cats Concerning Mr Peter Porter. Still, she was happy that the post went to Andrew Motion: “Andrew’s worked so hard,” she declared, […]
Always Changing
Posted on by James Woodward
tree not even for a moment do things stand still: look at colour, in the trees Seiju, his death poem (d. 1776, age 75)