3 Poems by Gillian Prew

Very pleased to have three poems at ‘The Blue Hour Magazine’.

The Blue Hour

Slaughterhouse Morning

Beyond          murmur burning –
the marching wound, old meat          and bare bud. Another sun
hints at butcher’s blood     in running flesh.     Ruined
birds wake from a coiled dream, wings          empty from being born,
their loss mostly planted in the rough land.    A grief
heaved to a hung lamb,          a swung cow,          a river of pigs.


I brought light, I looked,
Everywhere blood reigned.
And I cried, I wept with my whole body.

– Yves Bonnefoy

Heavier than the hour –
the rowan berries lie like rubies sucked and spat.
The broom on the hill relives the light – it blooms
its fires to blisters. From air, sea-wet and witness –
the gull. She peers in necks popped wide flustered mouths.
The gape a dead-eyed howl such innocent names. A banner
of blood, of body, our plucked beds tidy. Our crime –
grieve like ripped-up rain,          like fists.

Moment Reflected in Bonnard

Drool-capped crocus. My…

View original post 81 more words


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s