Famous Poets,

The Onion, Memory โ€“ Craig Rainen


Divorced, but friends again, at last, we walk old ground together in bright blue uncomplicated weather.

We laugh and pause to hack to bits these tiny dinosaurs, prehistoric, crenellated, cast between the tractor ruts in the mud.

On the green, a junior Douglas Fairbanks, swinging on the chestnutโ€™s unlit chandelier, defies the corporation spears ~ a single rank around the bole, rusty with blood.

Green, tacky phalluses curve up, romance

A gust โ€“ the old flag blazes on its pole.

In the village bakery, the pastry babies pass from milky slump to crusty cadaver, from crib to coffinโ€“without palaver.

All are rare over in a flash, too silentlyโ€ฆ

Tonight the arum lilies fold back napkins monogrammed in gold, crisp and laundered fresh.

Those crustaceous gladioli, on the sly, reveal the crimson flower-flesh inside their emerald armour plate.

The uncooked herrings blink a tearful eye.

The candles palpitate.

The Oistrakhs bow and scrape in evening dress, on EMI-tape.

Outside the trees are bending over backwards to please the wind: the shining sword grass flattens on its belly.

The whitethorn frillies offer no resistance.

In the fridge, a heart-shaped jelly strives to keep a sense of balance.

I slice up the onions.

You sew up a dress.

This is the quiet echo flesh white muscle on white muscle, intimately folded skin, finished with a satin rustle.

One button only to undo, sewn up with shabby thread.

It is the onion, memory, that makes me cry.

Because thereโ€™s everything and nothing to be said, the clock with hands held up before its face, stammers softly on, trying to complete a phrase while we, together and apart, repeat unfinished features got by heart.

And afterwards, I blunder with the washing on the line headless torsos, faceless lovers, friends of mine. ~ The Onion, Memory โ€“ Craig Raine

By Wisdom Kindness

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)