Frau Nein Frau Nein Blocks deal Britain must walk over broken glass Boris takes control It’s German intransigence he says That means 80% no deal Is real Talks expire today Says the Mail Online In its headline We all hope together But for different things Found poem taken from the text of the Mail Online front page December 13th 2020. (c) Suzanne Conboy-hill 2020 Continue reading ‘Rubbish’
The Village, Spring and Summer 2020 When the world had gone mad And things were so bad And staying at home was the new going out And life shrank to the size of a screen But if we were lucky we still saw some green in the fields and the gardens we passed when we could. Until everything stopped. No outings, no meetings No seeing our gran, No chatting to besties or folks in the street, unless they were housemates and under our feet. Like a film that has stuck on one frame we were trapped Right here … Continue reading Not A Poem by Not A Poet
She wants the body of her love to hold her body and gentle it to ecstasy. She wants him to hold her heart, freely given, and protect it next to his. She wants him to listen to her mind, to nurture its freedom and join it in its discoveries. She turns, restless, while his sweetness rests elsewhere. © suzanne conboy-hill 2016 Continue reading A Woman wants
He is brazenly, brilliantly, brassed off by the polished politics of the righteous right. He heats arguments on pupils bright as buttons of molten jet in eyes alive with intellectual trickery. He rolls concepts and ideas over the strop of his tongue like globules of mercury, loosed from the tedium of measurement. His love of chase is betrayed by tiny garnet blushes on nose and cheeks; cooing infants to his icy fire of victory. He scrubs the thoughts of neophytes with the steel wool of Socratic questioning. Deftly iterating incantations of hegemonies, he hides exquisite diamond cuts in the woollen … Continue reading Philosopher Stoned
You are Glyndebourne I am Glastonbury You are tennis I am rugby You are Savile Row I am rock chick chic You are dignity, understated I am – not * I am tiptoes You are ground I am Virgin You are BA I am Karma Chameleon You are Moon River I am white water You are my mooring * I am your proxy; you my shield Neither one exposed nor concealed, we fit As perfect pieces Of our lovers’ jigsaw © suzanne conboy-hill 2011 You may share but not sell, alter, substantially extract, or claim as your own Continue reading Jigsaw
Grubby filigree dropping through time like a brass badge, We catch Momentarily, hold, pass on, exchange For time punctuated Ephemera. * History’s tale, brass braille In a rounded token. Currency to be stolen, traded, bitten in a Hand-spit handshake Gentleman’s deal. Makes it real. * The economics of Usury. ©suzanne conboy-hill 2011 You may share but not sell, alter, substantially extract, or claim as your own. Continue reading The Gunmetal Pound in Your Pocket
His smile was like pig-iron blasted from a stormy sky in winter. His tears were like silver mirrors, cracked and splattered on his taut plastic skin. Because she was as grudging as gold made lead by a malevolent alchemist. ©suzanne conboy-hill 2011 You may share but not sell, alter, substantially extract, or claim as your own. Continue reading Heavy Metal
The instructions said to open up my soul To pull aside the clattering shades, the dusty drapes Of my personal museum To cast light on fractured mirrors of truth and wishes * No! They didn’t That’s not it at all It’s not … That’s not what it meant * But the instructions said … And I draw up my knees to protect my heart from The thundering minds of curious and dispassionate scrutineers Bent on clamorous critique * Wuss! Who’s looking? It means nothing at all Just do it Nobody here cares * But there is caring, in this new … Continue reading The Box of Me
Hissing, spitting, wound up, bound up, looped and tied Into choices, their choices, I lied To get an operator, a person * Someone real to feel my exasperation but instead I get another endless list of choices Their choices * Press One for Returns, Press Two for Orders Press what for steaming, fire breathing, excoriating rage bordering on Murderous intent * All our Operators are busy but we really value your custom so Please hold For more Choices ©suzanne conboy-hill 2010 You may share but not sell, alter, substantially extract, or claim as your own. Continue reading Blondie’s Nemesis
Pads like little radiators, sneaking Snidely over the bed, catching threads In stinging claws that shred With innocence, the satinette covers. ©suzanne conboy-hill 2010 You may share but not sell, alter, substantially extract, or claim as your own. Continue reading Catching Threads
Dr Suzanne Conboy-Hill 