Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010


by Paul Hamilton

Up high wires, suspending old beliefs, a crow caws then drop
its head.
Fascinated by repletion, drawn in winged movement, she
watches below,
Millions of dots explode, cells expand and a mesmeric cloud
shapes - a person.
Under clusters of scratching kids holes in the big black
blanket she keeps a secret:
Clockwork heart clocked maximum, tinny feather dress in
financial ruin,
She hoppity hops, nuclei powered, by a cremational shaped
blood beater.
The rascal wants to, will do - beatifically sprouts a mouth
to - shout your name. 
You.  Forty years
walking the same spot your concrete foot rot has a hospital hue.
A necklace of possibility set down by a doorway
insignificantly, spirals and spirals. 
Dullness, depravity, twin suns in a bleached bubblecloth moment-to-moment
gasp of urges;
Wrongness doorstepping sweet innocent blessing bashed her
face with a shoe,
Only half-ton boys sad butter bodies now melt her outer
casing in pub mirrored moments.
This gamester braver squad solider saver requiems early
deaths: I humbly serve.
Smite droppings piped with musical intoning of soft pink
hands: I humbly protect.
Opening her throat, to mate biological science with its
quintessential limit, she issues her call.

Added: 26.04.2010

Judges' comments on this poem


Good explosive sense of language