by Orna Ross | Oct 21, 2010 | Poetry |
“How shall I be a poet? How shall I write in rhyme? You told me once ‘the very wish Partook of the sublime.' Then tell me how! Don't put me off With your ‘another time'!” — “And would you be a poet Before you've been to school? Ah,...
by Orna Ross | Sep 28, 2010 | Poetry |
Her name? Her name is Generose, here is how her story flows: through the latest news of war our ruler coming out to say ‘Bombs Again!' Though his minions' mincing words, force-feeding what ‘we' need to do, and why, (with regret) some evil people (and some...
by Orna Ross | Sep 3, 2010 | Poetry |
Here is a small poem about a big subject: Listen, my parents, the grasses are crawling, the trees are all thrumming. Soon, birds won’t be able to sing. Listen. Hear me. Our time is for turning. If the old ways don’t die, we can’t win. * Listen, my children: our...
by Orna Ross | Aug 3, 2010 | Poetry |
One major inspiration of art and writing is… art and writing. I'm reading a brilliant anthology, edited by Carol Ann Duffy, called Answering Back, with a simple, delightful concept: a living poet chooses a poem from the past that has touched them and writes a...
by Orna Ross | Jul 2, 2010 | Poetry |
Down by the river bank I see a life-ring on a line, and think of how we used to swim in talk, your hands in mine, our arms encircled round your wound, that never-ending need. Your life was so unfairly hard, you felt, and I agreed. So when low words rose from...
by Orna Ross | Jun 1, 2010 | Poetry |
‘”Thou Shalt Not!” soon fades,’the Storyteller* said. ‘But “Once Upon a Time…” goes on forever.' It is morning, May in England, Ascot Priory wood. In a clearing by the pathway, a branch invites a bow. I lay my forehead on its bark,...