New book- Mortal by Veronica Aldous

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Alice and Pi

wave paiting

Alice and Pi

Pleasure is not formatted
It is clouds inside a builder’s van
Not inside but magically inserted
Via the ordinary glass

Holst plays a  symphonic broadcast
To Venus, he is gone now
But he can still compose
Listen, he says –
Everything has a voice

I transmit acres of nebulae
Chesil beach is the wet sea
In my blood, tidally grading the stones
Smaller to large, as always

I am worn away, but saturated
As the horse drinking
From the deep sweet stream
All of it changes, is unchanging

Stranger, what are you?
I feel you streamed
Into me; you answer my questions

That is truly astonishing
Look into me again

I transform under your gaze.


Veronica Aldous 2018 all rights reserved

Painting by Veronica Aldous- copyright

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My father’s gun

imperfect face

My father’s gun

I went out and the snow lay like a sheath
Dumbing the soil and the houses
I wondered who would hurt another
And the woods cried life would hurt another
Again and again the sharp bifurcations
Of the black trees and the black earth
Lacerated the whiteness

I understood nothing as usual
But went indoors and wore my fox face
All day I spat out the pain
Of thorns and worms and people.


Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018

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Cream of Antimacassar (Ninah)


Cream of Antimacassar (Ninah)

When you come to me with your garden shed problems
The railway line tracks, and the fact you are marrying
A woman who is not me, (yet we will still meet
After the honeymoon in Barbados)

I know
This is one of those dreams.

Whiteskin, whatever were your eyes like?
I hardly remember, yet you have the temerity
Of visitation, as if you had a right
To speak to my 18 year old self and make me spout
Tears of anger and jealousy

Which  feel delicious as fat apples
To my ungrasped breasts
And  my unkissed mouth

Tomorrow I will make the  day into soup
And stir it till you disappear.

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018



Photograph of roses on rose dyed silk

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My Etsy Shop Update

Veronica Aldous Arts

etsy banner 234

I have some paintings and poetic jewels on sale at my Etsy shop with a  10% discount  for the new shop opening!
Please do take a look …

Veronica’s Shop


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10 o’clock Paralysis



10’clock Paralysis

The tin dog barking his guts out
The three notes like a cracked gong
She can feel him bashing along
The corridor, his tail striking the dado
In miserable happiness
He has been heard by a woman
With no key, no heart to get up
Go out, feel the sun striking the retina
The fat mud extruding as glorious wormcasts
His ministry is one of just sitting it out
Till something changes
Which it always will-

And now he has commenced howling
To prove this very fact.


Veronica Aldous 2018 all rights reserved

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The Blue Whale


The Blue Whale

At last a harpoon took my breath away
There was no sigh
In this expedient sea,
The weight was all, the flesh, the oil
The barbarous implements
Deconstructing heart, lungs and liver
A cavernous mystery unfolding
Beneath the massy corpuscular facts
The nave, a transept, the entablature
Of my very bones.

I am still hunted,
I sail above the visitors
Gazing into my interstices
A network of echoing chambers
Tunnels and alien tumuli
The crystal of my organ voice

Will I give the past
To their open mouths?
They will not leave unhouseled-

Four notes still booming in their brains.



Veronica Aldous All rights reserved 2018

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The crushed violets in your drenched hand
smell of nothing, the ionone numbs the senses,
Like ghosts they cannot wither, being as they are
already gone into some nervy hinterland.
Josephine, you called me, the shadow on my breast
blue like a bruise or a bird’s wing, or something
chemical. The more you called, the less I thrived,
as though the name were not freely given
but stolen from another’s face, a mask.
Such wasted flowers I never asked for
Still reappear unasked –
Like dust or sweat they faintly linger,
Now I wear my hair pinned tight –
to stop it coiling round your finger.

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018

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