The Learned Pig

Art – Thinking – Nature – Writing

Tag: poetry

  • Hinge

    Hinge

    My Body is a Forest; Self-Addressed; Elsewhere – three poems from Hinge, Alycia Pirmohamed’s new poetry pamphlet, published by Ignition Press.

  • All The Places

    All The Places

    Three poems by South African poet and clinical psychologist Musawenkosi Khanyile, from his recent collection, All The Places, published by uHlanga Press.

  • August & Grain

    August & Grain

      The fields were sudden bare – John Clare       Across the field, a half-mile or more away – across a dry liquid rustle of oats – a combine moves … slow as a clock. Its smoke-& -dust plume flags its position as it cuts the first swath close to the headland’s hedge…

  • Revisiting a Geography of Hope

    Revisiting a Geography of Hope

    To be a farmer, at any point in history, means you grow food. You steward the land – soil, water, air, energy, plants, and animals – and make a living from its increase. It seems simple, at least in purpose, if not in practice: Grow good food. Now, in the twenty-first century, awareness is growing…

  • Earth Turned Honey

    Earth Turned Honey

      Moksha The desert has no memory. Sun beats on its chest, collarbone glistens: I wait for rain, an angry sea filling the sky to break, blow, burn, make a new world order. Agave pierces clouds while amethyst mountains rest in heavy sleep. I have asked permission to make this desolate ground my home. Beneath…

  • Untranslatable

    Untranslatable

      Chamomile Freak-show Poisonous in the wild, or so I was told, overtaking the verges on the main road, probably nothing after oversized daisies perhaps, a gem or relaxation abates. Mirror versus lamp, a stay of education. Stock complexity produces verse upon verse, selectively lit past occasion obliging, stranger things have happened, mug in hand….

  • Hommes sous Hommes, II

    Hommes sous Hommes, II

    In 2005, I went to Palestine for three weeks with my parents, my wife and our daughter, aged two. We were invited to carry out workshops with young artists and kids. A mural was painted on the wall of a playground in a camp next to Qalendia check point. We made several friends and knew…

  • Dicksonia Antarctica

    Dicksonia Antarctica

      The Tree Fern I once had a Tree Fern (Dicksonia Antarctica) For many, many years my First view each morning From our upstairs window. Beautiful, sweeping fronds So elegant in light breeze. I took care each winter to Wrap the crown, protect From frost and bitter winds. One spring it still stood tall Yet…

  • A Weekend on Mars

    A Weekend on Mars

        This Moment In Time Just when the crescent moon appeared. When the ailanthus shivered. When a heron shook its feathery crown and the little wheel turned inside the big wheel. While the palmist sighed, old and alone. At this juncture. At this moment in time, Winter putting on its walking boots, Autumn reflecting…

  • Canta de mí Sangre

    Canta de mí Sangre

      Unabashed Creek bed: clear green washes all stones un-rough in smooth grip when the light spills and it is mid-week, no one is aware skins shed. Trees strip slipping off garments well-worn, hampers piled high fallen secrets left un-hidden. The afternoon appears in front of a hallow sky. I follow the trail and cross…

  • Entrained Rhythms

    Entrained Rhythms

    I: Aretha I’ve just moved to Uppsala, Sweden, where at first I knew no-one, apart from my old friend Kalle, who with characteristic kindness invited me to go see Amazing Grace with him as soon as I arrived. We packed into the smallest room of the Fyrisbiografen, a tiny cinema constructed in 1911 and now…