Skip to main content

New Poem by Peter Robinson

Good news.  Eyewear today offers a new poem by one of England's best poets, Peter Robinson.

Current Affairs


Convalescent, by the Kennet side,
I see two raucous geese glide
down to a synchronized landing
through scattered waterfowl.

Cygnet nests built under wharves
or pendant willows in a row
hold tints for the late spring’s
promises of leaves
in branches’ blurs, a greenish yellow.

A Fire and Rescue launch goes by
and, look, that Ukioe print
has a swan stood on the current
absorbed in waves of its headlong flow.

            RED LINE ISSUES

The streets are paved with takeaway
wrappers, strewn sheets, cans,
and posters for elections …
Then faces come up in the dusk,
each with its private memory
migrant to that point.

Sun sets on brick and greenery.
More distant faces come —
those who’d struggled to get here,
others that hadn’t yet made it
and those who have, uncertain eyes
at checkout till or queue.
            IN THE DRIFT
Feeling fragile, a memory of health,
my old self rehearsed
in piecemeal efforts at improvement,
I find unreal expectations
blight even what we do;
and stripped beds, ring-fenced saplings
of a biscuit factory park
derive sense from resistless drift,
the incorrigible makeshift
doing then undoing things —
as if the body politic
had to get its health back too.

poem by Peter Robinson

Robinson just published a signed limited hardback edition, English Nettles and Other Poems with illustrations by Sally Castle, from Two Rivers Press. Available from: 35-39 London Road, Reading RG1 4PS. £15 + £3 p&p.
1 comment

Popular posts from this blog


Dr Bruce Meyer, a significant Canadian poet and writer, will be the final judge for this year's Beverly Prize For International Writing - the impressive super shortlist of 18 international poets and writers is announced below.
Any original unpublished manuscript, in English, by anyone living anywhere in the world, writing in any genre or on any topic, prose, non-fiction or poetry (even drama) is eligible, making it arguably the world's most eclectic "broad church" literary scouting prize. Last year's debut winner was Sohini Basak (her book is being launched in Bloomsbury July 5th, 2018).

The rules of the prize stipulate that any author chosen for the shortlist agrees to accept publication with Eyewear if judged to be the final winner; and may not be entered into other competitions at this final stage of adjudication.
Bruce Meyer is author of more than 60 books of poetry, short fiction, non-fiction, literary journalism, and portraiture. He was winner of the Gwendolyn…

Review of the new Simple Minds album - Walk Between Worlds

Taste is a matter of opinion - or so goes one opinion. Aesthetics, a branch of pistols at dawn, is unlikely to become unruffled and resolved any time soon, and meantime it is possible to argue, in this post-post-modern age, an age of voter rage, that political opinion trumps taste anyway. We like what we say is art. And what we say is art is what likes us.

Simple Minds - the Scottish band founded around 1977 with the pale faces and beautiful cheekbones, and perfect indie hair cuts - comes from a time before that - from a Glasgow of poverty and working-class socialism, and religiosity, in a pre-Internet time when the heights of modernity were signalled by Kraftwerk, large synthesisers, and dancing like Bowie at 3 am in a Berlin club.

To say that early Simple Minds was mannered is like accusing Joyce of being experimental. Doh. The band sought to merge the icy innovations of German music with British and American pioneers of glam and proto-punk, like Iggy Pop; their heroes were contrived,…


Wheeler Light for 'Life Jacket'.

The runner-up is: Daniel Duffy - 'President Returns To New York For Brief First Visit'

Wheeler Light currently lives in Boulder, Colorado.

Life Jacket

summer camp shirtsI couldn’t fit in then
are half my size nowI wanted to wear
smaller and smallerarticles of clothing
I shrunk to the sizethat disappeared

of an afterthoughtin a sinking ship body
too buoyant to sinktoo waterlogged for land
I becamea dot of sand