ALWAYS THE LEAF

  I remember you, growing older, how your skin adapted- as if it had grown in the garden on the branch of the rhododendron. Shiny it was, with lines that time had tempered into it, ever so carefully, like you tempered peace into our panic, stillness into our hast, serenity into our cacophony. The leaf,Continue reading “ALWAYS THE LEAF”

A BIG BULL CAN BE JUST A BIG BAG OF BULL

  I shouted at the TV last week, beyond the stilled fields recently ploughed of their prize, where now we wait and watch for new seeds where hope was replanted. I stopped to moo last week as you bellowed back at us from the not-so-stilled screen in our isolated living room- you’d be going toContinue reading “A BIG BULL CAN BE JUST A BIG BAG OF BULL”

THE THINGS WE LEARN, AFTERWARDS

  In a fat box by the skinny bed in a dusty room rarely regarded covered clumsy with crushes are the contents of a childhood- lost letters of love- all penned but never posted & cut-outs of pin-ups next to wrist bands friends twisted & time forgot. In a lost room fallen to dust hopeContinue reading “THE THINGS WE LEARN, AFTERWARDS”

THIS DESERT WHERE WE DROWNED THE DANCE

  This Desert where We Drowned the Dance Guttural; pertaining to a particular sound at the back of the mouth, there, in that spot not quite reachable, still quite parched. Water; to sprinkle, to moisten. I do this to quench a longing I can’t reach though I cannot hold this liquid just like I couldn’tContinue reading “THIS DESERT WHERE WE DROWNED THE DANCE”

STILL A SWAY TO THE FINAL ANCHOR

  Sea claims what man can no longer cradle but time’s tales can be freed from nasty nets when the wreck is beyond want, when the cable has been cut and we come to the call of the current. Rough becomes rust becomes wrecked becomes ruin, might becomes memory. Day is done but night unfoldsContinue reading “STILL A SWAY TO THE FINAL ANCHOR”

Paul Stephenson

Poems, Poetry, Poets

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Flight of the dragonfly

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na rudai ata i mo cheann

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A Writer's Path

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Growplan

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Crossways

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a poetry blog & online home to the work of José Angel Araguz