Traduttrice EN/ CAT to ITA Revisora I love paiting, drawing and reading. Animal lover and veg.
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ALT Poem More often than not, a lured thought crawls over the camber of my umber-stalk tongue and abseils off its air-lick tip. It's out there, desperately enticing, showing leg, trying to get noticed, because sometimes being seen as disgraceful, is better than being invisible. Daniel Duggan
ALT THE UNDERCURRENT OF FATE That the sea has darkshuffled stone, has slow-chafed in deep echo all tooth and blade, has rolled it to palmcup, as though it is clay, then has bowled its polished gifts to star the flat of the bay, is the awe of this beach walk, but my breath tightens to fossil when skyshine is sprawling on the sand, and at my feet a perfect mulberry pebble heart suddenly uncovers – love at the moment I crave it. This poem is accompanied by a photo of a perfect heart-shaped pebble.
ALT A perfect heart-shaped pebble.
ALT SHATTERED Before this impossible jigsaw splintered on the floor it held firm for years. And yet there were so many signs. Polish that didn’t get the specks off. When you thought age was dulling the silver, you were putting the blame in the wrong place. And those stray hairs were cracks in the making. Think how much it held – what you made it hold. Hungover Saturdays, yellow-tongue Mondays, the eyebrows you couldn’t shape, the check, check, recheck before you left the house. The way you looked for his forehead, her eyes. There was no way it could contain all that.
ALT Anima - Animus After ‘Pursuit’ (Sylvia Plath) and ‘Red’ (Ted Hughes) A force of planetary attraction, their mutual gravity a fatal impulse to entwine, sword-edge mating with each other, melding body-mind essence, leaving a trail of blood tang, tooth and claw passion, sharpened sticks beating out word flesh, parry and thrust, gloved hammers in cold rooms spitting coals of razor red nails, aliveness a burning beacon, two red giant suns their raw embers peeling to black, heat and burn, supernova fission, red heat, red rose ashes, a poppy field of open wounds, stillness before the kill. © Glenn Barker February 2026
