 |
| Andrew Taylor (photo: Paul Hawkins) |
5.12.13
Slow
cruel
hands of time
there is snow
on the ground
slightly cut off
the trains still
run just
is there a ghost in my house?
I could sleep
across tramlines
on a £67.26 bike
Danish coffee
Danish pastries
the smell of the sea
in the air
before redevelopment
crushed the soul
out of the city
and squeezed it into
glossy magazines
seek the independent
taste the double shot
walk the hill
Neon glasses say it all
especially at dusk
when the mist rises
slowly through
streets like lace
there is the need
to home
to ground
amongst the bags
the belt buckle tightens
another notch
it must be the soup
Granite walls
the private dock
summer sense of calm
within the grounds
there are ruins
in the fridge there
are cans of Coca-Cola
Elderflower presse
and San Miguel
she complains about
the size of her hands
blue plaster
blue jeans
flat white
almost a perfect leaf
the comfort
of a dusty kneeler
extinguished candles
at dusk
A55
right through
start in one country
exit in another
pacing
call
pace
calling
battlements harbour walls
the overwhelming sense
of history
pebbles washed up
bring their own tales
strings and choirs
returning estuary
beyond home
take the old road
you will find the oak
kites on the sand
if you go far enough west
the signal reads Ireland
choirs and strings
solo against treated string
look left
as if perched on a hill
it is there
arms wrapped around
the port
another return
to face through
darkness aware
of hidden landscape
routine is played
movement
through necessity
it sounds as though
it was recorded
in the largest
of cathedrals
what is a cathedral
if it is not
a home?
the goodness of warmth
hot coffee
regardless of location
to get aside
to listen
hands of time
there is snow
on the ground
slightly cut off
the trains still
run just
is there a ghost in my house?
I could sleep
across tramlines
on a £67.26 bike
Danish coffee
Danish pastries
the smell of the sea
in the air
before redevelopment
crushed the soul
out of the city
and squeezed it into
glossy magazines
seek the independent
taste the double shot
walk the hill
Neon glasses say it all
especially at dusk
when the mist rises
slowly through
streets like lace
there is the need
to home
to ground
amongst the bags
the belt buckle tightens
another notch
it must be the soup
Granite walls
the private dock
summer sense of calm
within the grounds
there are ruins
in the fridge there
are cans of Coca-Cola
Elderflower presse
and San Miguel
she complains about
the size of her hands
blue plaster
blue jeans
flat white
almost a perfect leaf
the comfort
of a dusty kneeler
extinguished candles
at dusk
A55
right through
start in one country
exit in another
pacing
call
pace
calling
battlements harbour walls
the overwhelming sense
of history
pebbles washed up
bring their own tales
strings and choirs
returning estuary
beyond home
take the old road
you will find the oak
kites on the sand
if you go far enough west
the signal reads Ireland
choirs and strings
solo against treated string
look left
as if perched on a hill
it is there
arms wrapped around
the port
another return
to face through
darkness aware
of hidden landscape
routine is played
movement
through necessity
it sounds as though
it was recorded
in the largest
of cathedrals
what is a cathedral
if it is not
a home?
the goodness of warmth
hot coffee
regardless of location
to get aside
to listen
Links
to online resources: www.andrewtaylorpoetry.com Shearsman Books author page:
http://www.shearsman.com/browse-poetry-books-by-author-Andrew-Taylor ; recent poems published at Stride http://www.stridemagazine.co.uk/Stride%20mag%202014/jan2014/aTaylor.poems.htm
Recent
collaborative (with Sophie Herxheimer) and non collaborative work published at Otoliths http://the-otolith.blogspot.com.au/2014/03/andrew-taylor.html
Poetics
published in Troubles Swapped for Something Fresh:
Manifestos and Unmanifestos (Salt) and Otoliths, and poetry publications Cathedral Poems (Paula Brown) and Temporary Residence (erbacce-press)
My
relationship with Edge Hill is long and varied. A graduate of the BA in English
and MA in Creative Writing, I gained a PhD under the supervision of Robert
Sheppard. I was a founder member of the Edge Hill Poetry and Poetics Research
Group.
I now teach English and Creative Writing at Nottingham Trent University.
I now teach English and Creative Writing at Nottingham Trent University.
Further (earlier) Pages features on Andrew's work may be found here:
http://robertsheppard.blogspot.co.uk/2009/09/introducing-andrew-taylor.html
Deatils of the Edge Hill MA here.
