Tuesday, 28 September 2010
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half-sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive (stamped on these lifeless things)
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings;
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of this colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Thursday, 23 September 2010
Here are a few images from my latest book/zine, The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry. it's been a poem that's interested me for a long time, so I enjoyed doing it. :) Thanks to everyone who bought a copy at the zine fair, particularly Fehmida, who gave it a great review on her blog. <3
I'd encourage you all to read the story, or - better still - listen to it sung as a ballad (it really is beautiful). Or, y'know, you could buy a copy of my book. ;) But maybe that's a topic for another blog entry, eh?
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Saint Francis and the Birds
When Francis preached love to the birds
They listened, fluttered, throttled up
Into the blue like a flock of words
Released for fun from his holy lips.
Then wheeled back, whirred about his head,
Pirouetted on brothers’ capes,
Danced on the wing, for sheer joy played
And sang, like images took flight.
Which was the best poem Francis made,
His argument true, his tone light.
—- Seamus Heaney