Atlantic Waves

(Thanks to R.A.D. Stainforth ... with a small contribution from Amy the cat ...)


In the space between the crash

and pull of this wave,

I give you a landlocked heart,

chest deep, tumbled

incandescent as sea glass.

Turn it over,

examine it

in the palm of your hand.

See how important it is,

how far it traveled.

Press it

to your lips,

feel the soft-spoken stone

whisper bottle green

in your listening mouth.

Let it dissolve whole,

release the saved-up thirst,

the delicate, jellied passion.

All you hear is the sea.

Nothing else matters.

tk/ March 2013

Meal Beach, Burra Isles, Shetland by Robin Gosnall 

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The Library

R.A.D. Stainforth reads in his library voice...


I hover among shelves,

blissfully aware

of your brave new architecture,

your circular mind.

I look past the scaffold,

the crown of thorns

thrust high and piccadilly

from your unbridled wedding cake,

taste milk and water

you have turned to wine.

Miles of subtle volumes

pressed deep and still―

touchstones lodged

like pillars of salt,

more beholden in salvation,

than indulgence. 

tk/February 2013

Central Library, Manchester, U.K., photograph by Robin Gosnall