Poems written by John Marks

Kafiristan

Kafiristan short poem

The HinduKush mountains of the moon and the valleys where we lived, with the fairies and the spirits of the wood.. We bred the shen – the bravest of the horse tribe – and grew the scented root – the

All Soul’s Day

All Souls Day short poem

In memory of Malcolm Lowry It is a time of wind and rain and in the green wood the voices of the dead coagulate and skim this edge of consciousness. It is a time of heavy-hearted dread. It is the

Princess

Princess short poem

With the golden eyes of a pharaoh – Her forebears brought down lions – Under the sweltering skies of the high veldt: Lithe and supple, fleet of foot, She covers this northern turf With ceaseless leaps and bounds. Her loyalty

The River

The River short poem

A river runs through us the river of life With its twists and its turns, and its banks out of sight (early morning misty light scatters these dregs of the day – O! the unbidden tears) The flotsam and jetsam

She’s Gone

Shes Gone short poem

Oh the difference young, old, rich, poor, squirming with words, hitting the floor squabbling, fighting, feeling sore. a world of regret, I swallow and beget this absence of you! O! I wish I could turn words into wishes. I wish

Shelley

Shelley elegy

Low-slung August sun shadows stonework into the deeper shadow lands — phantoms adrift on the wide Sargasso sea — and so unruffled, these lawns, and all this frumpery. So much then has time and its opposite done for me. It was along these lines that

The Photograph

The Photograph elegy

Linked arms, looking into the future, my daughters, In jim-jams, bought from Sunday markets, Off the Thame Road, and your beautiful young faces. This picture of a world I no longer have, imbued With all the scattered sadnesses of time,

Winter

Winter short poem

We wake to the rumbling thunder of blood, Pumping hearts, twisted hearts, this shadow and I Squeeze into the thick silences of trees. Now the dark lights of Christmastide afflict us Twilight memories drift, flux and flicker In this breeze

Singularities – Part 2

Singularities   Part 2 short poem

Near is very far space, time, continuum, still there’s a vastness that appals chemotherapy, white walls scurrying through the corridors of the christie this monday morning early meeting Emile, yes, named after Jean Jacques’ eponymous hero, married at the weekend,

Only Connect

Only Connect short poem

The sting of the wind On this cold spring day Reminds me of my Ancestors who rode This same wind As they trudged to work On early shift. This connection, now, is In my blood Deep in what I mean