Celebrating World Poetry Day!

Your Arts Editors showcase a collection of poetry submissions by students. So from us to you, Happy World Poetry Day, reader.  INTERMOST by Leanne Francis A framework of limb and bone; skin stretched over valleys of organs, hugging my innermost parts. I, tall like a tree rooted in the richest soil, beechwood: my hair grows […]

Rosie McCrum
21st March 2019

Your Arts Editors showcase a collection of poetry submissions by students. So from us to you, Happy World Poetry Day, reader. 

INTERMOST by Leanne Francis

A framework of limb and bone;
skin stretched over valleys of organs,
hugging my innermost parts.
I, tall like a tree
rooted in the
richest soil, beechwood:
my hair grows up and out,
and you pull its coils in awe,
but I am more to be admired than adored.
Between thighs, thighs
which have no gap except when they are wide open,
you find refuge –
a room you rent for the night, leave
in the morning.
Yet here I am, endlessly growing,
vast curves and crevices in spaces nature made
just for me.

Glace Fella by Maise Folan 

I’ve got a sweet tooth you see,
She said,
Showing me the gap in her gums.
I’m a stickler for the sickly ones,
She said,
Spooning the sugar out of her tea.
I’ve got a knack for pretty tongues,
She said,
Swimming through his toffee.
I’m fiendish for candied souls
She said,
Seeping in saccharine mould.

Dessert is my favourite
She smiled
Spewing over her lover.

HMS Erebus-1862 by Lauren Duckworth 

Franklin’s ghost ship,
carried by the ice herself,
shifted,
her frozen flesh,
shoulder plates slide
and curve against
the welcome of
the foamed water,
doll dives,
traced by the tongues
of Inuit tradition,
phantom ship
found,
its condition,
untold tales of the cryogenic,
preserved by the
careful fingers of the sea,
the proudest antique in her
collection.

Bloom by Rosie McCrum 

It’s important to ensure the roots are buried deep,
secure in the dirt; damp and cold with muffled quiet,
Or you’ll be holding hands with a ghost:
Soiled fingers grasping in the darkness.
If you cry into the earth and keep her warm
her shoots will reach up, yawning limbs
outstretched, leaving shadows where you thought
there was no sun; slow green speckled gold.

But not enough light, or too many tears, and the fingers
of each limb will start to sag in a brown sleep
and little black dots will form, a rash of angry ellipses
reminding you to care.
So hold her to you, but not too close,
Or you’ll crush her leaves and choke her prayers.

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