Tag / poet

by Carol J Forrester

Small Flies and Other Wings – A Poem By Carol J Forrester

Small Flies and Other Wings

Christine Ay Tjoe

After the breakup:
easing her out of the settee cushions
so we could see the damage you left.

Spaces marked by absence.
Your idea of husbandry,
less obvious than building fences
to keep her tamed.

You took her wings,
kept them between glass,
along with all the others
collected and curated
to remind yourself,
how many birds roosted
in the catch of your palms.

They grew back so different,
translucent to the eye
and always tucked away
from those who might be watching.

You would not return to her
for wings that looked like these.
Not when there were others
much prettier for plucking.

by Carol J Forrester

Caught Up – A Poem By Carol J Forrester

Each evening I begin unwinding myself,
searching out the teasing thread
that will lead to the knots
wrangled tighter each day.
As if I am a set of headphones
snaring pocket lint in my tangled nets
until I’ve frayed too far,
and simply snap.

by Carol J Forrester

Jörmungandr – A Poem By Carol J Forrester

I’ll start at the toes,
short,
and not quite in joint
with one another.

Pause around the ankles.
Suckle them
like gobstoppers
to the marrow.

Crunch shin and calf,
ravish thighs
till the fat glistens
along my jawbone.

Pick the pelvis clean,
pop each ovary
between thumb
and forefinger.

Still juicy and ripe.

Pull intestines,
lungs, liver, heart,
kidneys free.
Mince into a pie.

Portion each breast
out with the cuts
to ensure a moist
cook.

Lick the remains clean
from each finger.
Grind the bones
between my teeth.

Leave one hand for eyeballs,
seasoned tongue
tastes a lot like ox,
ears more like bacon.

At the end,
begin again.

With Halloween just a couple of days away, I thought I’d share one of the more monstrous poems from my poetry collection, ‘It’s All In The Blood’ which sounds like a much darker collection when associated with this poem on its own.

by Carol J Forrester

Find A Room, Make Yourself At Home

All corridors run back to you,
though they say loss gets less
the longer you let it sit.
And you’ve been sitting here,
in this hollow you left for a while now
Just a slither of yourself
with no new words to say
that might explain this empty.
And barricades don’t keep
the door from banging open,
every time a storm
or gentle breeze blows in.
It only takes a name,
or a memory,
to raise your shade.
So I given up airing out this room
with all your secrets.
Leave another hole in the wall
the same shape as my fist,
pretend I haven’t
when the moments leaves.
Re-watch you walk in
sit down
pick up your drink.
Re-watch you pick up your drink.

dverselogo