Friday, 14 February 2014

Bringing Flowers

If  Wordsworth were to bring me flowers
I’ve no doubt it would be chrysanthemums
with pretty heads growing old
on sturdy shoulders.

They’d last the full seven days
like it says on the label
and their loveliness would slowly
fold into the ocean that sustains them.

 ShelIey’s hand  would grip the stems
of half a dozen blood red roses, thorns and all.
And they’d live scandalously for a few short hours

then die a swift dramatic death.

Susan Jane Sims

In  February 2012 I was invited to be guest poet at Words and Ears, Bradford on Avon, (an open mic event organised by  Dawn Gorman and Helen Murray). The above poem was part of my set.

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

The Kill

For Emily Dickinson

The surprise is
that we are shocked
at the viciousness of the kill

and the coolness
of the killer
after the act.

Watch the lioness at rest
the satiated sleep
the playful cuff of a cub’s head
the carefully retracted claws.

watch the lady pinpoint her target,
stalk, and strike.

It’s the covering of tracks
the washing of hands
the desire to be clean again
that marks out a human kill.

And it’s in the aftermath of rage
that we spot hope’s feathered edges
and reach.

Susan Jane Sims

Published in The Listening Walk.(ed. Sue Boyle) Bath Cafe Poets 2013