Poetry of the week – summer
| April 23, 2012 | Posted by Georgie Tindale under poetry |
Back the Folds
In this land bright things disappear quickly
As soon as they come. They dot the grey landscape
Like paint-drops on canvas by a careless artist,
Overturning the balance; rupturing
As simple chaos will do everything it touches.
Words of summer do not exist here.
Warm days and things are concepts
In a fragile mind incapable of holding
Anything hotter than numb ice. Intimacy
Does not exist. Lust is a luxury
But here it is a necessity, a byproduct
Of keeping the heart going.
We love the warm months. We strive for them
In this frozen wasteland. We are sick
Of these pockets of cold flash-freezing
Patches of homes like turbulence
But all we do is howl like dogs at the sky
And work on, the slaves of this north
Slaving away at drudgery mixed in brown sleet;
Maybe it is a sign? The harder men have mined
Down into the rock and granite and found nothing
But perhaps we will find the last light underground.
We will bomb and blow the foundations to rubble
And in the dust there will shine a light brighter,
Stronger than the cooling fireball of the sun;
Satan will warm us in his cracked fingers.
The angel of fire bringing us down
To where we will now live, shouting
In sweaty gasps and haggard rasps
Summer, my God of the purgatory
We have found the summer
By Joshua Teo
Summer man
You have nothing but you to give
and the water is your lifeblood.
It runs through you and echoes
in moments of self doubt.
Walking and talking through you
and you will not accept,
the light which doesn’t shine through you.
You are too warm for the ice of fear
which chills through them
and terrifies them. Walking and
talking and burning through them.
You breathe the breath of an Englishman
though your flat cap is tucked away.
You will be there on her wedding day
in a stuffy room where light gleams
through painted on stained glass windows.
You will be moved by her
her fresh faced freckled skin
but by no higher power,
than her own.
She will grow lined, and your wife
has fallen cursed, with the curse
which takes a quarter of us. But you
still have the liquid coursing through you
which simmers, and never boils over.
With inner peace never reaching you.
You are the holiest man
I know because you are honest
and you break a real sweat
as you pull polystyrene children
shivering from eutrophic lakes,
and dye your skin moss colour.
Disconnected from false comforts
you open your eyes, to the comfort
of being alive.
And not caring why.
By Georgie Tindale
The Heat of Summer
It’s that time again, children playing outside getting wet.
Some will happily play with others they have never met.
The sun blazes high in the sky.
Parents that get drenched in water fights wonder why?
But no one really complains, as summer;s here, finally after all the cold.
The weather is hot and pleasant for everyone young or old.
It will last not forever but while it does even those stuck doing work will be able to enjoy the weather.
Some people burn easily and simply will never.
Some will tan
and then you get the types of people who will splatter on the fake tan
grinning if not somewhat creepily, thinking this will make them beautiful / handsome.
As the heat rises there will be perhaps more surprises, as you never know what people will do to cool off, perhaps get in water fights with parents , siblings, or anyone
Summer is among other things an excuse to eat ice cream until your brain feels numb.
But finally after all the wait summer’s almost here, and when it comes let’s all have fun.
By Alex Dib-Bennett
Summer
Life is in full bloom
Sitting in the grass,
We smile.
Life is good, happy
Even for a few weeks.
Life is our sun,
Glowing in the sky.
Summer in its whole
Is life in its height.
Animals rush to prepare
For hardships ahead.
But we sit back, relax and bask
In summers glory
And natures glory.
By Ellys Sugarman
Each week The Student Review publishes a collection of poems about a particular topic or theme. For this week’s theme, or to submit a poem, go here.
