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New Poem by Giles Goodland

Eyewear is pleased to have a new poem by the recent winner of the Cardiff International poetry competition, Giles Goodland, today.


Architect

I made a false star. Each problem
is aesthetic, the war has not yet
started yet, so sky, furrow your clouds
my sand leaks on the shoes.

Remaking a film my head would
pulse with the start of light
the plot involve great solitude
and a man walking into a text, the text
transform, pages strange the face

we recognise under a lamp is that of
a doll that has shaken its eyes out

face is an object, the mirror steams
you can harm a night by softing
under a car, the road engages

architectures we wake past
in order to reach the switch
that name escapes them,

expressions pour into the television’s jar
a figure quakes inside the statue
he will talk at length about clocks
or stop and realise what you mean,

bleed your hands into a basin
hardhats of many colours
are carrying scaffolding poles

to unsky, the motiveless airport
grounds days, there are
parked the whales of winter opaling

the eye, dark spears the names on the faces
where the mute swan broke the pond; the castle
the clouds signalled to us as whole is no more.

poem by Giles Goodland
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