Aphrodite in a Blue Silk Dress
A poetry anthology edited by C. G. Singleton
containing work by various authors
Copyright 2011 C. G. Singleton
www.insubstantialpageant.com
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Aphrodite in a Blue Silk Dress
See how you enter, your head held
high
Your past left behind you, now you're one of a kind
With
your gowns and your finery, a vision no less
You are Aphrodite in
a blue silk dress
With your cool expression and your
bearing so poised
And suitors around you paying homage at your
feet
You are Helen of Troy gazing out from the walls
On the
turbulent waters and the thousand ship fleet
Aphrodite on a gilded
seat
Now think of the goddess made flesh
once again
From long in the shadows (though never unseen)
Would
we hang on your words on some prime time chat show
Haunted by your
image in its ephemeral glow
Aphrodite on the TV screen
Go back to those frames hanging safe
on the walls
In museums where beauty bewitches us all
And
pilgrims pay homage to the brush stroke goddess
Aphrodite in the
blue silk dress
CGS 2011
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Grey and Yellow
Girl with grey eyes and yellow hands
Takes me to the place of sea-washed sands
Man with grey hat and yellow shoes
Sits me on a rock and sings the blues
Boy with grey skin and yellow feet
Shows me where the sea and sky meet
Lady with grey hair and yellow face
Says the waves all break into white lace
AB 2010
Sunshine
There’s a house beyond a hill
There’s a hill beyond a house
There’s a field full of poppies
There’s a cat and there's a mouse
There’s a bird inside a bell jar
There’s a toadstool for the elves
And in this fickle sunshine
We can forget ourselves
AB 2010
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Ride
Ride on the paper lung railway
With cotton steam puffing from its throat
Ride to the last destination
On a folded origami boat
Ride on a paper plane climbing
Pilot’s license assured
Cutting a Heaven-bound runway
You’re the only passenger on board
AB 2011
Pollen Head
You had your
Pores wide open
You wanted
Sterile love
But
Nothing is that clean
You spent your life in a beautiful monochrome
Bright tears
Just clinging to your lashes
Like pollen heads
Little harlequin seeds in black and yellow
Spreading sadness on your breath
AB 2011
Bell Jar
A Battonburg sunset
Dripping with marzipan
Straight into her mouth
An auburn dawn
Combing strands of sky
So they fall away South
A chocolate twilight
Bourneville slowly stirred
Into a soup of colours, blurred
A heavy blanket
Of suffocating sweet wool
So you flutter in the jar
Under the lens, inside the net
Small fists beat the glass and you know you're a fool
And now we’re laughing
And now we’re laughing
And the sun appears through guilty clouds
And the sky is so clear
As clear as anything we’ve ever held dear
And the air is so sweet
I could drink its fragrance from the tips of my feet
This must be something we’ve pulled strings for so long
And only now the regret is washed away with our sweat
Do we see its beauty and dear,
It is beautiful.
AB 2011
Obsessive, Compulsive
I’d love to go out walking,
Somewhere calm, serene,
But I can't leave this house,
Until every room is clean.
I want to go to school,
But think of all the dirt:
The germs, disease and sweat,
Of students as they work.
The fingerprints, the footprints,
The greasy stains and smears,
The only thing that’s clean
About humans is their tears.
I’d love to roll down hills,
And walk in shallow streams,
I’d love to hold your hand,
But...
I don’t know where it’s been.
AB 2011
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Saturn
I lower the rim of my bowler hat,
I flash my amber eyes at the passing comets,
Spinning into shadow, I see Uranus,
His icy oceans of blue methane gas are pulsing and throbbing,
He tilts his swollen head at me and hurries away,
I catch a glimpse of the Milky Way, splashing through space,
They turn and wink cheerily at me, but I only glare back,
I see Leo the lion, trapped in his constellation body,
I laugh at him, knowing he cannot roar back,
I am gold all over with my finely carved rings,
I am Saturn.
AB 2007
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Hat
Thank you, Hat
For giving me strength
When my hair lacks lustre
And above all, length
Thank you, Hat
For looking so good
And being my exam alternative
For a hood
Thank you, Hat
For giving me hope
In a hard time through which
I didn't think I could cope
Thank you, Hat
For just being there
For giving me confidence
And covering my hair.
Siân 2009
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Heartless
Did you tear it? Bleed it?
Think that you don’t need it?
Stuff it with emotions
And overfeed it?
Did you lose it? Hear the
Beat inside and doubt it?
Greedy and selfish
Better off without it?
Do you stamp and shout
’Cos nobody believes you
When you say it hurts
And tell them it grieves you?
Do you keep it? Sometimes
Take it out and stroke it?
She looked at me coldly.
“Somebody broke it.”
AB 2010
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Gifts from a Fairy Godmother
Whilst you sleep
Into your Christmas stocking I shall put
These precious gifts for you to keep:
Laughter and cheerfulness in all your ways
To brighten up your lighter and your darker days;
The comfort of your friends both old and new
The silver many, the golden few;
Delight in nature’s bounteous gifts
The scent of flowers, the song of birds
The spacious view or scene that lifts
The spirit on the darkest day;
Courage to do what you believe is right
And common sense that puts mad thoughts to flight;
Steadfast love, to give and to be given
On earth, your little piece of heaven;
Some things I’ll keep for later years
Discrimination and wisdom are honed with tears;
For now, my dear one, sweetly gently rest
With quiet sleep at night be always blessed.
And, in case you’re hungry when you wake
On top, I’ll put a little chocolate cake.
Pat 2008
Walking to a Wedding
You were walking to a wedding – I see it now
Soft breezes soothing dusty steps beneath a cloudless Hellenic sky
Ruffling makeshift wreaths of blossom
An impromptu dance begins, your friends’ laughter scattering startled birds
And as you smile, do you secretly record the moment?
You were walking to a wedding, and...
Then what?
We can but guess – long centuries’ cruel neglect erasing so much of what you wrote
Fragmented words became jigsaw puzzles of text
Halting incantations to conjure up elusive Sappho
But when the spell is woven, your words possess us
Evoking lost Ionia and its poet daughter
Did your honorary sisters, the Muses, walk with you on that day?
Determined that something would survive the future’s literary vandalism
A bare phrase, unadorned – but sprinkled with their magic
Drawing unwary readers still into its siren-like enchantments
Adrift in a single literary fragment – walking with you to that wedding
Now all our lives are lived in fragments
Buy – vote – stop – go – ciao – love you
Human language repackaged for electronic intercession
One day we’ll want to say something important, but the words will be gone
Just like yours
Perhaps our punishment from the unforgiving Muses
I don’t walk...
Much
In my hygienically packaged and compartmentalized life
Gasoline and exhaust fumes, not myrrh and fragrant oils, are my anointments
You picked rose petals as the wedding party trod that path
I adjust the air conditioning
Driving to the mall
Night falls
I close my eyes, hearing distant singing
How long into the torch-lit night did the revels last?
And me? I can’t sleep either
You’d call it magic if you saw the flickering screen I watch
But it’s not
One phrase from you blazes more brilliant than its ephemeral light
Lying back in my chair, eyes closed, but seeing still
Dawn arriving on golden sandals, touching exhausted dancers with pale light
The tired party makes its last farewells and sets its weary feet upon the road
Walking homeward from that wedding.
CGS 2009
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Will I see her?
There! Again! Down the long white sterile corridor
Slim figure pastel summer dress, walking away from me
“Wait, wait!”
She doesn’t hear
“Please – look back!”
“What was that, Mr Thomas?”
They watch me with those expressions again
“Careful with the leg – remember your physio later.”
I ignore them and carry on scanning the sterile whiteness
Anxiously
Bill appears, cheerful as ever
“Lucky for you the impact was on the passenger side.”
Then he realises what he’s said and is suddenly busy elsewhere
But it’s all right
What matters is when I see her again
Tomorrow? Maybe...
CGS 2009
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Librarian
I contemplate Miss Stapleton
Caressing musty pages in hushed, reverential silence.
Her name transmutes base prose to love poems
Gifts for my distracting muse.
Might coral lips be coaxed to smile if our fingers touched
Handling a slim volume?
A painstakingly slow courtship
Beneath the frowning sign
‘No Talking’
CGS 2009
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