Carol Ann Duffy in a tweed coat
Is talking to a load of drunks in a car
About love, beneath a pond
Glittering its sheen
The shape of a waterlily leaf

Your eyes, she says
The conditioned world shivers

Meanwhile Edward Scissorhands
Is playing at being Johnny Depp
He doesn’t believe in secrets
Maybe both are lies

Don’t speak, he hisses
But she carries on spitting oneliners

The greenlit dusk creates a booming sound
René is playing a bassoon
As cars skedaddle down the steep hill
Toward the Golden Gate Bridge
It’s a heist and Jimmy’s in the back
On scooby snacks

I wonder what lengths they will go to
To shut the lid of the blue box
Says Carol Ann
As she fires off a volley of metaphors
One of which tops a lonely sniper

His eyes slowly close
As moonlight spraypaints his punctured brow
Zooming into the realm of fractals.


Veronica Aldous  all rights reserved 2018

Photograph Veronica Aldous


The Black Earth of the Arawak.

lady of flowers


The Black Earth of the Arawak.

The sun broke the sky into three pointed stones.
Eye stones, keep stones, earth stars, voices
Tall girls were washing the string from juicy leaves
To weave into baskets to crush the toxic sap
From a giant root.

We may be eaten by men or dogs he told them
The water glittered, and a pinkfaced monkey chattered

He traded for some iron to cut the Spaniards
The way they cut  up the womenfolk, only worse
If there was a worse way, he would find it…

They were the wrong people, they were just a  family
Eating their bread and praying  to a paper saint
Before they were felled beneath the tools.

A double rainbow spilled over the spent volcano
The two-note bird shrilled in the wet undergrowth.

Now we are as the Caribs
He said
Except we did not eat them


Veronica Aldous

all rights reserved 2018





Once was
under the hedge
Once was flowering
Once was the white blacks
Of the avocets once was
Once was queen, queenly
He said
Deposed, he said

Never ever listen,
She said
Walking on one leg-
Although, do listen
To the frogs down the lane,
The efflorescence of the chestnuts
Dropping pink chips of dog-dust
On lovers’ heads
Oh how I missed you
Undoing feeling
Better off forest gone

Need will keep needling
Till then weave hawthorn
Croon, crowning
The self.


Drawing  ‘Ostara’ by Veronica Aldous

poem and art all rights reserved 2018

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