Song of the Green Knight
Song of the Green Knight
to his Lady
remember how
on those golden afternoons
we hung pretty garlands
at the gateway
to the garden of your girlish dreams
remember
how I bore no shadow
and couldn't allay your fears
may I pretend
I was instrumental
in the fashioning of your tears
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Just Do it
how the doctrals of persubiance play
on our tenuous grasp of meanderae
where haunted wishes tease and sway
to the cymbalesque of hoomuspay
so cram your zest
in a sinuous jar
and feather your wings with aspidar
smear your skin with effelin
and begoferate round a pedal-bin
today
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Luxembourg Gardens Paris
on quiet days they come
from a stones-throw away
kicking-over leaves
not expecting to find anything they'd recognise
worn smooth
but pretend
attaching imaginary threads
not thinking where it leads
then holding on
backaway from the park-gates
and the vacant benches under the trees
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Hallowe'en
high-up in the organ-loft
Saint Anonymous
where pillars of darkness
hide his smooth white face
weeps
for the unarrivals
the pilgrims
just off the beaten-track
in the chromium-plated
neon
of the wayside diners
who almost hear his call
from the juke-box in the corner
and shadows on the wall
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Bar-Maid Sent
she spins the glass
knows that guns blazing
he'll come soon
at the ante-room
to the crematorium and bar
the pale rider
for no-one special
just another regular
who'll exit
lit-up by the fruit-machine
to the hitching-rail outside
where
hooves ascrape in the parking-lot
awaits his final ride
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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The Cormorant
I could have drawn a line in the sand
projected it into the sky
and the cormorant bisects the south-westerly gale
twenty yards offshore
precisely on time
later at The Mudflats Bar
they consider it bizarre
his twelve mile round trip
merely to provide material for a verse
almost impossible to rhyme
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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The Great Escape
with cardboard paper wire and string
he fashioned a pair of Angels wings
and strapped them on with cellotape
then poised to make his great escape
but wobbled at the very brink
and crashed to the floor
by the kitchen-sink
the ethereal spirit
was clearly gin
and they found his soul
in the pedal-bin
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Cribscene
huddled together in the dark
this was the night
angels shepherds animals and kings
just there wondering
in lantern-light
and under neon signs
still the baby sleeps
and wakes
two thousand times
and when he wakes
what will he find
the texture of straw
faint sparklings
from the starship of our minds
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Autumn geese
the small birds
have gone
nervous and twitching together
they sat on wires
now underlining
the spaces left for words
which won't come
in the dark
across gaps in the sky
geesefly homing- in
they cry this is our South
and I've been waiting
holding the moon high
over mud-flats
at the estuary's mouth
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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Daybreak
with trumpets sounding
banners unfurled
we approach the bridge
give way to the night-coach
the river is the divide
we cross to the other side
make our mark on the stone
a nod, a gesture
to the gatehouse
in the poster-peeling wall
and from somewhere
fragments of suspicion
and resistance to it all
poem by STEPHEN BRIAN Brady
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