Published Poetry
Published Poetry
Fossil Gatherer
Propping up rusty railings by the shore – listening -
between eyelashes I saw flapping, it sounded like applause.
A skeletal osprey limped along cracked hot granite,
eyeing a red crab drowning in sunshine.
The crab was crunched — then wriggled.
Oscillating sine waves tickled the air,
a spider drowned in a bucket
next to my foot – squealing
Dirty fingernails scraped the earth
seeking out ancient dead: their stone-shadows
now ghostly skeletal images –
crushed in time and spatial vectors,
to emit crackling and spitting messages:
reminiscent of Italian and Chinese Art – in a white room.
With a high-brow air, but whining,
like a London Tube train,
late at night
then rubber-necking at the hard platform’s lip.
I watched litter swirling, between the tracks,
sniffed the warm rubber,
and flinched at metallic noises.
Ivor Griffiths 2007
Her at No. 29
Green Sequoia, slow down – take the joy of her,
Slow down and breathe the coy her, feelings
tapping on the broken window, in half-life light.
Get down, feathers and a shilling, wrap them
in a white shade of hessian — rough touch
smoothes a flinching wince,
like a stone frog catching flies.
It’s in the blood, 1989: On the wire
floating above a garden, dreaming
a compost smell, hiding a wobbly
neighbour, staring through the sash-windows
that squeal open, like cats drowning.
Smoke haze in the kitchen, everyone smoking
and talking; laughing at shiny photographs.
Monotone edged in white, like the life
of the neighbour’s wife, shaking to a bongo
and tidying like Andy Warhol.
Ivor Griffiths 2007
These are some early poems that I have now decided not to develop. They are however all copyright. Enjoy.