Seahaven Poets website
The literary eyes and ears of Seaford were focused on the Crypt Gallery last Wednesday when we held another Open Mic poetry event. Our thanks to our two wonderful guest poets, Robert Edwards and Jasmine (pictured), who completed the line-up for each half of the evening. Our thanks too to all the amazing poets who…
WELCOME to the first SEAHAVEN POETS newsletter! We’re delighted to invite you on the first leg of a poetic journey from the South Coast of England to Parnassus and beyond! You don’t have to come from Newhaven or Seaford, or even be a poet, to join us on our website – if you have a…
Caught in a time warp On a march through history Imprinted on a hill In midst of an unending walk stands quite still The white giant Leaning on walking staves Outlined against shades Of patchwork green Searching for a village, clan or sheep, No longer seen. Through wars and peace, Winter’s bite and summer’s song….
The door slammed behind her The stark finality frightening, She was alone, all alone in this godforsaken room and nobody, but nobody, knew of her fate. The walls stared down with knowing eyes silence screamed from the shadows while the cold, night air wrapped itself around her showing no mercy at all.
He got there first and we are all now paying his price deep in debt to that one black square soaking up the rays then spitting them out a heat signal alive in the brush strokes the best colour for desert garb and domestic radiators, but we don’t like to go there stay chromo phobic…
Fast in feminine confines of the House Your songs fought hard to reach the open air – From quiet drawing-rooms and salons fair To Arno’s banks, where soft sweet winds carouse. Of Quietude you stayed the loving Spouse Keeping your keener yearnings from despair; Playing your well-tuned instrument with care – Well-tended fire no enmity…
We’ll all be united now/ The ones that paid the price/ he thought as he strolled down the dusty yellow path/ pulling out arrows as he went/ like a bird without a mission/ already condemned/ wings too tiny to fly/ tired of flight failures/ on a long tumultuous trek to the disc-world.
Finger follows raindrop Dripping down the wood. A place that’s lived in better times, He’d leave there if he could. The cat his only playmate, Skinny, with knotted fur. He sighs, and gently fondles, It brings memories of her. A lump of cheese for dinner, Cat’s food a better choice; Angry thoughts that…
No drop to the beach. Sea edge is now distant, mounds of shingle hide its view. But there must have been another way round it? Sad. Rolling cost of maintenance is ongoing, millions of pounds, ad infinitum. Cheaper to flood to the old harbour and rehouse? Stunned, I gasped when I saw the change….
Innumerable shades of emerald And jades in patchwork, spill Over undulating hills Of chalk and flint, Beside the glint of meandering rills And shoreline, where wet fingers of lace Are clawing and tracing Or petting the face Of the cliffs. And the ocean biffs Pebbles and rocks, While seabirds flock and mock, Turn and wheel…
