New book- Mortal by Veronica Aldous

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Babygod

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Babygod

 

He lit a match in the darkness
This was not a good thing
She knew to shut her eyes again
Look sleeping still;  Babygod make him go
Fly into bad dust!

Warning whitebone smile

She knowed
He was just the beginning.

 

Veronica Aldous

All Rights reserved 2017

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Small Fairground

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Small Fairground

Their voices peal a gamelan of tones
Perhaps there is a paddling pool
Wriggling toe-fish in rubbery water
A too cold breeze…

I only have these little sounds to play with
A rockpool of reminders
Where each sense hunts
And stings another.

 

Veronica Aldous

All rights reserved 2017

 

Photograph Veronica Aldous. – Cistus Rock Rose

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Kumadori

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Kumadori
Toshiro licks his finger
Perfects his brow
One pink wet moment
On a  snow white ground

As a plum exudes resin
He expects her to open
A man cannot always be a god.

 

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2017

 

 

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The Perfume Tree

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The Perfume Tree

When I awoke the sun was turning the tree
Into an angel, a celebration  of white edges
The sun turned on my belly
The wind blew a little warm sigh
As if I cradled a happy child there

None of this can be undone
Even one part is sanctity.

 

Veronica Aldous 2017 All rights reserved

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Existential White Rabbit

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Earthworks painting by Veronica

Existential White Rabbit

Everyone wishes the moon would talk to them
Secretly, they believe they know her better
Than all her many lovers
that when
Thom sings our favourite lullaby
The book falling from his hands
Into our laps, it is our book.

eat me
drink me, go on
it’s black as night again
moon clock, I digress;
O Inchoate Bloody Universe
Where we search for magic
That isn’t there.

In Dome Way, I see the attic
Where the telescope resides
The satin box, his things, his mysteries…
I’d sit in the dark again shivering
Just to hear the peeps of that crazy owl
The one you called Ethelbert-

How I miss the crease above your thumb!

 

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2017

Painting   by Veronica Aldous

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Forty beats

landscape with gold streak

Summerland path

Forty beats

The birds turn to the west
Clouds gone over the coppice
Outcrop of chalk,  red earth

Pour my heart over a cliff
Black words in the rookery
Forty beats gone.

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2017

Painting by Veronica Aldous available from the artist £300

 

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Female 1

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Female 1

She kept a
caterpillar-handbag
full of chomping inmates eating away her neuroses

Sloughing a carapace is not easy
it shucks the soul’s skin away

in pockets and compartments
there are thousands of shivering husks

less lovely than their floating sisters.

 

 

Veronica Aldous 2017 all rights reserved

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