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Geraldine Green
Geraldine Green
has an MA in Creative Writing from Lancaster University. Her first collection,
The Skin,
was published in 2002 by Flarestack. Her second collection, Passio, will be published in April 2006,
also by Flarestack. She lives in Cumbria
where she runs writing workshops, and is also a tutor for Continuing Education at Lancaster University.
Her poetry has appeared in Obsessed with Pipework, Rain Dog, Neon Highway, Smoke, Citizen
32
and Envoi. And in online American magazines such as Out of Order, Poetry
Bay and Mountain Voices. She is an Associate Editor of
Poetry Bay.
THE ETERNAL NOW
i am going to gather wood
from the forest under waves
under mermaids and tomorrows.
now i shall go gather drift-
wood for my lover to warm his outhouse
in this cold spring weather
i shall take up my cudgel
my sword my hammer
gather debris from the newsprint of oceans
gather coconuts gather memories
gather up the one-armed sailor from the arms of the sea.
the green linnet, yellow dog,
black mongoose that chit-chatters
sits back on its hind legs
sucks eggs, stares up at the sky
from its one green eye.
now i shall gather foam in a chalice
for my lover who has become
a crusader flying in the teeth of god
sucked in by tidal waves
tossed around, a small piece of driftwood
slipped from mud into the eternal now.
IN THE BIG HEAVENS
i am the moon that lights the bear of the big leaves
i am the moose whose stalks you eat
i am the wind you ride in your elm car
you are the one who eats stones
big stones that fall over me in the dark
at night in small time
at night in the eyes of god
at night in snakes that spit and make my dreams sing
you know i listen
it is there in the song of the air
it is there in the mother who made you
wrapped you in small quilts
it is there in the embrace of the empty shroud
a guest that comes calling once in a while
when the eagle's claws play
when i rip the sun from my breast
round and humming with clean velvet
in the east heat runs rings round itself
in the west the bison guards its mate well from frost
flowerheads become food for the mouse
sirius shows me my voice and i howl back
at the reflection of myself in the river
this magic holds the fat of the land
this magic holds the candle whose fleece we burn
i am the owl your mouth rounds into
as you wrap yourself round me in the quiet times
you with yourself at your side
you with your longings and your stutterings
you with your glorious birds!
i am your lover in the gold time
i am the beginning of each month when we ride
each other's circles before pieces were torn from our bellies
and we multiplied life like frogspawn.
lead me down your troubled path
lead me into the eyes of the storm
lead me deflated over the next horizon
and out into sunlight that is your dawn
sing me into corn husks and prairie windshine
let me follow the teachings of the herd
and your land that hollows itself in the palms of god
i will lay down beside you in the night of broken reeds
i will hold you a mouse a man a bear a fawn
i am your land now.
come for me with your thirsting mouth open.
copyright © Geraldine Green
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