Easter Island

When the couple came ashore the sky was violet.
They floated in on a warm tide encased in gold,
clapped their hands together to change the sky's colour
and touched lip to lip, inhaling each other's life.
They carved their faces deep in stone so many times
that each cut took them closer to infinity;
when they walked into the sea no blind eye saw them,
but they had sight of all they'd been before, or known,
or felt within a multitude of lifetimes. Sensing
the faces concealed a thousand wondrous stories,
they waited for the future's children to appear.

Baudelaire’s Funeral

The world would not have mourned him had it known;
a select elect who felt the loss were there,
while those trapped in their own time stayed away.

As the black coffin was slowly lowered,
the summer rain fell heavily – all dashed
for shelter beneath the graveyard’s yew trees.

Despite the wrong season, it could have been
a frozen moment from one of his poems.

Around the world, all life moved forward. His
death would mean less than his life; this in turn
would only be of value for his verse.

In a small orange grove five black horses
lazily cropped the grass and swished their tails,
as over the emerald water of a pond,
two prism-winged dragonflies met and kissed.

Stephen King’s Chequebook

You know it’s solid, dependable, safe –
a spendthrift thief could not begin to make
a small dent in its limitlessness.

Plain leather cover, unadorned, except
for a discreet SK in filigree
across a corner diagonally.

A miniature book, as yet unsigned, one
that unfussily gets let in anywhere;
a rectangular set of gold keys made for
a world that will not refuse admission.

Bat

Tessellated flit – scatter – tatters – sonic yip – pitch – swerve turn dip – panic flap – zodiac – eye – high – fly – loop – swoop – flap – skitter – spin – black – zip thither – slip – weather – breeze – night – cloud – feed – flight – fast – faint light – retreat – crawl – claws – squawk – clamber – chamber – spider wing – shrill – echo ear – fear – echoing – ermine – vermin – fur huddle – warmth – puddle – rustle – bustle – tightness – inverted world – squeaks – wings curl – furl – sleeps –

The Paper Boat

I launch my boat into the setting sun.
On reaching the pond’s centre, it starts to
sink slowly, listing over to one side.

Deciding to be the Air-Sea Rescue,
I slide my shoes and socks off, entering
the shallow pond, the smell of leaf-rot strong,

a pair of cold circles around my calves.
As I stand still in the neglected pond,
first holding on to a handful of weeds

to steady myself, then letting them go
and moving forward, through brackish water,
the clinging mud squeezing between my toes,

a cloud of gnats makes my head and hair itch,
a small plane buzzes over to my left,
the sun’s cold gold disc hangs in front of me,

and feeling like a god, I watch my boat
as water softens it, fills it with weight,
then takes it to the bottom of the pond.

The Man From Lindos Tunes His Bouzouki

In the afternoon sun and stillness
I sit in delicious cool and shade
beneath this gnarled olive tree
and tune my bouzouki

One string I tune
to the goats grazing on the rock-strewn hills
One string I tune
to the lizard sunning itself on a hot grey rock
One string I tune
to the incessant chirruping of the cicadas
One string I tune
to the stonemasons rebuilding the temple of Diana
One string I tune
to the butterflies meandering towards the liquidambar tree
One string I tune
to the baby shark gliding through the turquoise shallows
One string I tune
to the eagle flying slow and low over the island
One string I tune
to the cats padding through the acropolis

All of the strings I tune
to the sudden fall of a deep-starred
warm and almond-scented night
for now it is time to play

Back to Poetry

R J Dent - writer

Easter Island

Baudelaire’s Funeral

Stephen King’s Chequebook

Bat

The Paper Boat

The Man From Lindos Tunes His Bouzouki