This is our island

We have water all around us, and in these lochs,
and we have the boat –
and there were porpoises – we
have to cross the causeway… These
great big rocks.

This is Raasay, this is Skye; there is nothing
as far as the North Pole.
The sea was like a millpond, the sky was
a great… American blue.

We could never imagine ourselves alone,
with the sheep… and the gulls were laughing
like people.

There are yachts that just arrive
in the North Inlet,
and people arrive in bad weather
and we bring them in.

Here is the croft, with the white walls;
the tide is low here.
This photograph,
this is our island.

My friend’s Mum, in her kitchen, talking about photographs of their holidays on an island off the west coast of Scotland. Just as it was. Submitted by Kerry Featherstone.

Before the end came

Death is so intimate –
more intimate than first love.

I could hold his hand,  
gaze into his eyes,  
stare  
unhindered  
at his tender face,  
stroke  
his frosty hair.

He was very thin,
skin the colour  
of a dried corn husk.  

His mouth  
a dark tunnel.  
The jagged mountain ranges  
of his ruined teeth.  
The petrified forests
of his hair.

The failing locomotive of his breath.
The sadness of the black bobbled socks on his calves.

Yet he was
irreducibly
who he had always been.  

Taken from Tim Lott’s Guardian article, My father’s final moments, 23 February 2013. Submitted by Ailsa Holland.

Happiness is simple

Rise and dine
The winner will appear
When you’re too hot to move
Don’t worry about snagging a picnic table

The winner will appear
Don’t just watch the Food Network
Don’t worry about snagging a picnic table
Just toss ‘em in your pitcher

Don’t just watch the Food Network
Make pulled pork with the Neelys
Just toss ‘em in your pitcher
Happiness is simple. Cook with bacon.

Make pulled pork with the Neelys
Keep everything cold for nearly a week
Happiness is simple. Cook with bacon.
It will travel forty feet on a flat surface

Keep everything cold for nearly a week
If you find anything else inside our bag…
It will travel forty feet on a flat surface
Not all love notes are written.

If you find anything else inside our bag…
See if the judges pick your dish
Not all love notes are written.
Where can I buy it?

His and her refrigerators
Happiness is simple. Cook with bacon.
Where can I buy it?
Where can I buy it?

Rise and dine.
When you’re too hot to move.

Ads and headlines from ‘Food Network Magazine’ 2009, arranged into a pantoum. Submitted by Lita Kurth.

Dead pianos

The Knabe baby grand
did a cartwheel and landed
on its back,
legs poking into the air.

A Lester upright
thudded onto its side
with a final groan of strings,
a death-rattling chord.

After ten pianos were dumped,
a small yellow loader
with a claw in front scuttled
in like a vicious beetle,

crushing keyboards,
soundboards
and cases

into a pile.

(From For More Pianos, Last Note Is Thud in the Dump. Submitted by J.R. Solonche)

Said the Prophet to his Captors

I came to do the will of the Father. I am not Jesus Christ. I am his servant.
I am the Lord’s servant, and he has called me out of the world.
I have no part in these questions or answers that you’re seeking.

Her name is Shear Jashub. Shear Jashub Esther Isaiah.
I am the servant of the Lord, and my name is Immanuel David Isaiah.
It mattereth not how good you think this case is against me.
God hath power to deliver me out of the hands of my enemies.

By the power of God, she was delivered to us.
I received her in the bonds of marriage.
She’s had a glorious experience.
We have had many trials, but we have seen God’s power.
And she knows who I am.

Joseph Smith was arrested almost fifty times.
I’m willing to suffer whatever the Lord God will.
Death, prison or death, it mattereth not.
The whole world is in bonds and chains.

You will reap great shame and sorrow.
I have more compassion for Shear Jashub Esther Isaiah than you do.
I have been obedient unto God Almighty.
Why should I submit to your accusations?

My name is Immanuel David Isaiah.
I say that your question is an accusation.
I never raped anybody. I never raped anybody.
I have only done what the Lord God Almighty commanded me to do.

You’re asking me to talk about things that are sacred and holy.

Composed of selected quotations from an interview with Brian David Mitchell, conducted on 12 March 2003. Some punctuation has been added. Submitted by Laura Elizabeth Woollett.

Fried bread

Taiwan’s hand grasp bread
A legendary experience of dough
It’s just doomed earthshaking. Because the
inoculation of thousands have experienced and
iceberg … Finally one thousand reopen. You see
it … The cold of each lovely white body.
Experienced pressed on warm body … Clean and
attractive turning on the state of the body. Blood
in the body boiling. Inflation. Tempestuous … A
lovely stunner available. Curse. Wrapped in
white silk garments of thin layer. Extremely
upset, body of waving … Use hand grasp, surface
silk involvement.

You move?

From a poster advertisement on a small fried bread stand in China. Transcribed by Sean Wilkerson and Herbert Woodward Martin.

Dancing on the Edge

His characters
Come on
And make small
Anodyne
Statements
Then compose their faces,
Into expressions
Of meaningful
Intent
Have you seen my glove?
Your glove?
Yes…my glove.
This glove?
The other glove.
Another glove?
Yes….have you
Seen it?
No.
Followed,
By an expression
Of Fleeting
Wind.

Taken from a TV review by A A Gill in the Sunday Times, 10th February 2013. Submitted by HWB.

N wen u get ur kids took away

N wen u get ur kids took away from u
u have no mates no bloke family hate u n
keep u from urban kids so u take drugs I
rant allowed my toddlers till I’ve had two yrs of
therapy c.b.t. no point comin off drugs yet
is there n now social services problem
my mamy two and my dad have even stopped
contact I’ve seen them twice in six week
once was Xmas day the other
was for a photo shoot I got done with the
picture for my Xmas present so I had to
c them for the photo I’m not allowed normally
all I ever wanted was to be a mamy ex fucked it
n now I’m just in too Much pain everyday
I c the photo I cry I’m a mess everyone
hates me anyway the public would
Deffo be glad meby ten people would
go to my funeral the rest of the town
would be glad coz I have done
lots of bad stuff but I’m 29 now
Give me a chance for god’s sake

(Comment from an online suicide blog. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi)

London Scarves

I began to notice scarves.
Chaps with scarves
particularly.

There’s the bohemian scarf
worn by elegant chaps
in the environs around Buckingham Palace
and among thespians,
a rather loose-tied scarf
loping down from the neck,
showing an elegant
carelessness.

There’s the university flick,
which has one leg dangling
down the front
and a single wind
around the throat
and the other leg dangling
down the back – a little bit
Dr Who
and a little bit juvenile lead.

There’s the good boy scarf,
neatly folded in front
and tucked in tight to protect
the throat and the chest,
no doubt with a Vicks rub
underneath.

There’s the scarf which is wound
round and round
the throat, the throttling scarf,
or I don’t care if anybody knows
I’m wearing a scarf but I really need to
keep warm.

Then there’s that funny Italian double loop
which arrived a couple of years ago,
where you shove both ends
through the loop
and bring it round your throat
and flash it off
in rather an unnecessarily
vain way,
although, it has to be confessed
(I’m afraid I’ve tried it once or twice),
is very warm.

From the BBC Radio 4 In Our Time newsletter from Melvyn Bragg, emailed 31 January 2013. Submitted by Lesley Ingram.

Handling Queens

Remember:
the queen is the main-
spring of the hive.

She is a very delicate
piece of mechanism.

(It is very risky
to bend
her or to
bounce
her.)

Some folk seem to think
queen bees are like
opportunities
and nettles and ferrets–
to be grasped with a heavy hand.

A queen is as fragile
as a wren’s egg.

From H. J. Wadey, The Bee Craftsman: A short guide to the life-story and management of the honey bee (A. G. Smith, 1947), p 47. Some punctuation has been changed. Submitted by Rebecca Resinski.