Here is a video of a track from Vanity Project, called Pentecost.

So this is living;
all snot and sacrament,
clocks with blank faces,
I’m utterly floored.
I’d dry your feet with my hair
but, ‘you know’, friction burns.
With every head bowed, every eye closed,
it’s Pentecost.

So this is breathing;
tongues of the angels,
the tears of my fathers
bed down on my cheeks.
‘Is that oil on your hands?’
No, I’m just a sweaty man
with an earthquake in my heart
at Pentecost.

As a young man, I had vision.
As an old man, let me dream.
So this is falling;
it’s not the first time.
Oh God, when you smile.
Oh God, when you smile.
Sing your evening perfume songs,
scratch our names upon a wall.
Rise up and walk
to Pentecost.

Simon Travers (C) 2017

Jupiter

If you look closely,  there’s a small white dot below the moon. 

Two years ago today,  I was walking across the car park into work. I noticed by the moon a small spark in the sky that refused to give into the first light. Google sky map told me it was Jupiter. 

That moment sparked a poem which sparked the project I’ve been working on for the past 2 years. The project is called Vanity Project. I hope it will appear as a straight-to-youtube film later this year.

I took this photo this morning in the car park at work. 2 years later,  Jupiter still stands beside the moon. 

Jupiter

Checked the sky map on my phone.
Jupiter stands beside the moon,
a pendant for an amber necklace,
toasted light with milk for breakfast
bluntly slicing the street-haze.
No mechanism for counting days,
no concrete plans to change plans soon.
Jupiter stands beside the moon.

(c) Simon Travers,  2017

Anthologia: Gender Special

I’ve had a couple of poems, ‘a toast’ and ‘I am pregnant with proclamations of love’ from Anatomy added to an Anthologia on gender collected by Plymouth’s poet laureate, Blaidh Nemorlith (Thom Boulton).

You can read the Anthologia here.

As well as my stuff, there is work from other lovely Plymouth poets and an essay on gender too. It’s a really diverse and interesting selection.

The last over

Belatedly, I have uploaded the last of the cricket poems into the Ten10 tales section of this site. I’ve not had time to upload scorecards, but I found a cool picture of Virginia Woolf for anyone interested.

I hope you enjoy these poems.

Man of the Match

The Heckling of TS Eliot

The Game Carried On

Reaching the lower order

Getting towards the end of the poems that I wrote for the Ten10 project. I’ve put 3 more up tonight. They combine a heady mix of cherry cake, ephemera and 1950’s mechanical calculators.

Cricket Teas with the Archbishops
Ephemera
Matchfixing