Tag Archives: azores

Flying

Flying over cities is glorious
London’s furnace reaching for the sky
The nested curving of Amsterdam canals

England on Guy Fawkes Night
Firework chrysanthemums blooming upwards
Colouring the belly of the plane

Shimmering ice dazzling in the cockpit
So many planes alongside
Taking the polar route

Diverting around a war zone
Noting shell bursts far to portside
Glamorously frightening

Heading out across the Atlantic
Passing over container shipping
Waiting for Azorean volcanoes on the horizon

The miracle of heavy flight
Watching Jumbos lumber into the air
Carrying hopes and dreams

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

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Voting for poem of the month

My poem Broken Cable has been shortlisted for Ink, Sweat and Tears  Poem of the month for March 2017! Public voting is at https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/7V5XFKP

Voting will close at 9pm on Thursday 13th April. The shortlist is at http://www.inksweatandtears.co.uk/pages/?cat=72

I’m going to be cheeky and ask that you vote for my poem. Here it is once more:

Broken cable

In the middle of the bright Atlantic
Floating on the swell between island volcanoes
Looking past reflective surface tension
To silvered gas bubbles beneath catching the light

And across the issuing rift

A long snake of data cable
Broken sheared twisted.

As the gas breaks the surface
We hear voices
Blogs bubbling to the top
Instructions to buy or sell
A thousand tiny voices
Sparkling in the sunshine
Several parrot fish swim by
Next day when snorkelling
I fancy I hear fish blogging

Copyright © 2017  Kim Whysall-Hammond

Lava Tunnel

Lava Tunnel

In a simple field, no different from any other
Is a clump of small trees with a dark secret
Amongst their roots, we tiptoe down a rocky slope
Into blackness.
Torchlight reveals a dry tunnel, strange shelf on the walls
Chattering, we walk until daylight is extinguished by distance
We stop, simmer to quietude, and turn off the torches
Into silence
Liquid rock once ran where we now stand in black silence
The rock around us the scum that floated on that river
The apocalypse that created our tunnel has disappeared
Into history

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Once more, re-blogged from last year…

Dreaming

Dreaming

Large green leaves lean lushly
Against the cater wall
Palm trees and pines jostles for space
Flowery grasses spotted with inevitable hydrangeas
(Blue invaders of our hearts)
Line the dirt road  to the vent and there the carved curving stairs
Our descent into the dreaming volcano begins
Fumes surround us, fill noses and heads
Hades once writhed here
And scents its promise of return

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Magma Cave

Magma Cave

Shards of rock lie  silent
As ferns lean toward the sun
Along the sides of the great vent
Cut into a perfect dome above
Sulphur from a tepid celadon lake
fills the air

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

From a visit to Furna do Enxofre, an empty magma chamber in the Azores. empty of magma, not fumes….

…the painting is my own, and one of several of the vent….

 

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Graciosa

Graciosa

Where fishermen once hauled nets
Shared gossip, landed fish
Dug long tunnels in the russet cliffs
To shelter their bright boats
We now stand
Pondering the blue Atlantic rollers
As they part around the sentinel stone in the bay
We delight in the spray
Run laughing from rogue waves
Our pleasure replaces their hard toil

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

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