Extracts From Skald
Here is a taster of some of the Poems in 'Skald' (Koo Press, 2009).
This: barley green as grass
swaying in gusty May;
its clouds of brandished blades.
This: ghost-blurs from the coast,
hoar-brained crows cawing, haar
fingering the halting
hearts and limbs of lambs
willed to life on the hill.
And this: wing-whirr of geese,
wind-arrows in narrow
sea-currents still foment
their baleful heat, hot blood
and gold-greed still breed in
the mind; sea-wolves still found
fine steel in hearts: yours; mine.
Not gold - gilt silver that
glowed like those gleam-haloed
grabbed from Christ-cold abbeys
in southern isles; his scythe
in fields of yielding oats
braiding circles of light; not
death-willed - bteath-filled, ice-bright.
The hall waits; a silo
listening for launched missiles:
hurled keels cresting cold seas.
Wheesht, heart, terror unleashed
is simply a stored dream
of swung blades, flung fire-brands,
thatch spitting, glass splitting,
mind-seams parting; your dream,
your blues, your slow-worm fuse
sparking the dark, switching
its lit tail to and fro.
Theirs too - may their snared guts
re-coil, turn cannibal,
cold spine-fluids shudder,
torn from dreams by sirens,
tom-tom riffs, clifftop fires.
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