The Poets of The Poetic Bond – Spotlight – GK Grieve




   The Anniversary


   Dark Soul







The hand cocked at an effeminate angle
Holds the ashen tipped cigarette
This embering appears soft
It teases one to touch before it falls
Pompeii comes to mind

His hair is dirty white and cumulus grey
Accent Portuguese, hooded eyes
That famous olive skin bleached by

English pastures and pub lunches
"Zespezilly," he intones "Thiz day!"

Another paper on the table, Shag available
His companion lilts ole Suffolk
"Truth is, I's bored..."
He cusses, in that way that twists words

When they are not your Mother Tongue

"Every ******* day now"

She twirls her wedding band
He wears none; no tan marks either
"Do you agree?" He asks, leaning,

His shoulders rise and fall, ash burns her skin
“Does any of it matter?"

Vesuvius looms in their memory
Their betrothal, their wedding
But their emotions remained frozen in ash
Inevitably to drop like old skin
Fine idea it was, however familiarity bred

The hand cocked
The accents devilishly hinted passion
Loving not wisely but too well
Thirty years to the day
The innocence of youth left

"Can we remain friends?"
Sympathy undermines her sincerity
They both know this is so
But he is the more hurt, meaner
"Damn you and your English reserve!"

You see, it had simmered
Their intolerance of each other
Their mutual exoticism, passion
But in the end, hate is easier
It needs fewer syllables, less imagination

The last cigarette drops
They go to the hotel to fuck
Splitting up sex, divorce.  He signs

          The papers and leaves her sleeping

          Too well in death and paper cuts



The path is of a dark soil

With stones deliberately ground in

To make it possible for vehicles

Though was place the combustion machine

Has here, it is hard to fathom


Certainly the squirrel skipping over

The fallen dry wood logs

Cover in dry, yellow-fading moss

Certainly he, does not seem to know


Or the hare, head down, backside up

Hind legs twice the length and muscle

Of the front; the hare pauses

And stares down the path; expecting what?


Descending – valley, gully, copse

Clearly there are words to describe

Which country folk in jerkins and wellies

Driving tractors, or jeeps, might know


Descending, the path is black mud

Peat, horse trodden water and dung

I must seek an alternative way lest my town shoes

Suffer the ignominy of Nature’s mess


My feet crackle desiccated twigs and

Branches down, no bramble undergrowth here

I can walk deep into the wood without a scratch

Away from the recognized route, away from Man



Even in this late April, still trees are bare

Except the evergreens, holly, mimosa or some such

Skylarks and warblers, and thrushes sing

Their swirls of octaves rising and falling, hypnotic


The sun peeks above grey clouds, scarred

with white every peak and trough

Speckling through the bough where I fancy

The cradle will rock and the innocent will fall


All man-made sound drops.  No distant motorway

No aeroplane throttling back or rising up

No chatter of mobile ‘phone or internet connection

No hum of electricity generator sub-station


Squirrel and hare, bird and insect

Leaf, and trunk, moss and earthworm

My own head to the ground, listening

One soul, one mind, one understanding

My path is of a dark soul

With life deliberately ground in

Making it possible to love

Though what place my broken heart

Has here, it is hard to fathom



© 2009 GK Grieve.  Published in The Poetic Bond III © 2013


            © 2014 GK Grieve.  Published in The Poetic Bond IV © 2014






the poetic bond VI





She gasped


When they took the tubes out

Disconnected the wires

Switched the machine off


Simply a breath

One inhalation of this world


So much expectation

Such potential

Extinguished, finished before she even started


And yet

In whatever measure a person can judge

It was a life



Now held in memoriam



submission window

opens march 31st, 2016


The purpose in putting together these anthologies is to harness poetry through professional and social media and to engage actively in sharing poetry with other poets, thus bringing poetry to the general public. 


No specific brief is given in the expectation that the themes and style of the anthology would evolve organically.


Once submitted, the pool of work is made anonymous and read by a team of independent readers before being returned to the editor.


Where there evolved a congruency of theme, idea, or style, these poems were grouped together; those that fell outside this emergent consensus are not used in the anthology.  The readers’ reports were made available for those who wished to have direct feedback on their work.   

In the resulting volume I will set out to produce a portfolio of work from a representative group of poets which I hope will not only illuminate, educate, and entertain, but will also shows how poetry, and in fact all Art, reveals and shares our humanity.


© 2015 GK Grieve.  Published in The Poetic Bond V © 2015


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