Julie Whitby

 

 

 

The Colours That You Bring

 

 

Honey and gold you stand there in your tie: mauve

and I'm stunned once more

after all that bitterness and pain

finding there's still a live store

of sunny feelings, of love?

 

Like caressing a favourite cat,

or incandescent blossom shedding light

far and wide, the mere sight

of you leaves me (almost) replete.

 

When the months and years have flown

and we're apart. Alone.

Will the memory of him linger on?

Honey and gold you stand there in your tie: mauve.

I buy bra and pants to celebrate.

 

 

 

 

"The Big Issue"

[previously published in Ambit]

 

 

"Don't hurry by, sweetheart,

we're all in the same boat."

But that's just what I did;

and his words have harassed me

like a crossly dripping tap,

the beating of an ant-ridden drum,

intimating, presaging

worse things to come.

"We're all in the same boat.

Don't hurry by, sweetheart."

 

 

 

Julie Whitby © 2009

 

Mute Darkness

i.m. Derek Stanford (1918-2008)

 

 

Mute darkness, if you are not.

Nor can one quiver to be teased

out of pitiful, dead sparrow.

do not be deceived,

horror breathes, does not merely lie

in the imagination of pompous political prophets,

or hysterical cracked poets.

 

There is no desire now

for youth’s raucous laughter, what meaning

could it have? and were i to climax-after-

a bleak body-function is what that would be,

appealing as vomiting, or menstruation.

 

Fearful I can go nowhere alone

(and nowhere’s exactly where I’d go)

without your need for me lending a fine protection,

forbidding limping ghouls to approach

aware their coarse jeers must turn my stomach.

 

Why am I touching barks of sombre pine trees?

Surely I didn’t believe

such harshness could ever appease

this gaping, hollow yearning?

Your tenderness has gone from me, dropped

                                                       like a stone

into the shadowy waters...

Mute darkness, when you are not.

 

 

 

 

Julie Whitby © 2009