from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?


– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.


Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.


Roselle Angwin

Tuesday 5 December 2017

Proper Poetry #7

Um. What can I say about this one? Nothing, I fear, except that E J Thripps (aged 47 and a half) gets quite exercised by the idea of PROPER POETRY, especially on a Tuesday.


[Untitled]

Metre and rhyme
Should still be prime
In a theory of poetry
For our time.
With verse that is free
It's hard to see
What the coherent 
Point might be
While verse that is blank
Is just a –––
Severe disappointment.


E J Thripps




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