1. |
Pat Boran - Lull
01:11
|
|||
Before,
time was precious, never enough to savour
the sweetness
of days without landmines or barricades...
|
||||
2. |
||||
Remember ten years ago the country was hit,
full force,
by a cold front so fierce that no amount of grit
could thaw
the ice. No shovel could dig out the snowfall
and return the sucker-punched country to normal...
|
||||
3. |
||||
When the enemy finally came, it invaded
insidiously:
a burglar stealthily checking front doors of the weak
and elderly
and those homes whose posts and lintels were not daubed
with disinfectant...
|
||||
4. |
Ray Givans - Blackout
03:11
|
|||
An eerie sort of shutdown, a form of solar eclipse
that brings to mind parental stories concerning the Blitz:
how, at the sound of an ululating klaxon, they hurried
to the cramped and dank space beneath the stairs, where they worried
that the sky would fall in an avalanche of planks and bricks...
|
||||
5. |
||||
1.
As a child, you were told to keep away
from tree boles rubbed smooth by scratching cattle,
to not build dams in fieldside sheughs or play
in stagnant water or stage mock battles
near borders where acerbic nettles crept
through remnants of ancient kettles and jars...
|
||||
6. |
||||
And before we knew,
we were waiting in queues
for entry into stores of depleting
groceries: home baking aisles picked
entirely clean, shelves of tinned goods already
resource stripped by a plague of frenzied
locusts with an all-you-can-eat philosophy...
|
||||
7. |
Linda McKenna - Lacunae
01:23
|
|||
In the abandoned Louvre that afternoon,
we gazed upon the rectangular space
where the Mona Lisa once hung before
she amscrayed, was volée, was replaced
by a transparent frame of bulletproof
glass entirely empty save for a few
sachets of silica gel, a slab
of climate-controlled nothingness
housing a phantom portrait...
|
||||
8. |
Enda Wyley - Panopticon
01:09
|
|||
What it is to be lonely, like sneaking
unseen into a slow, sleeping city
in the fuzzy glow of early morning,
leaving no trace on grids of unmanned streets,
a stagehand creeping unnoticed between
scenes, black on black as you fill cups with air...
|
||||
9. |
||||
Thank God for nurses weeping in break rooms:
almost broken after a double shift,
cheeks striped red from elasticated strips
on masks designed to minimise the risk
of this deadly disease yet still in fear
that this thin armour is not sufficient
to safeguard the health of their families
yet with no hesitation delivering
priceless sympathy and medication
to their patients in the direst of straits.
Thank God for the doctors going over
the top, these modern day heroes
marching towards ground zero or bracing
groaning surge tents with meagre equipment
or facing the scythe with dwindling supplies
- terrified, no doubt, for their own lives yet
displaying grace under pressure: diamonds
forged in the darkness cast by a crisis,
ships made sturdy by weathering the storm,
their only directive… to do no harm...
|
||||
10. |
Keith Payne - Reclaimed
01:53
|
|||
In spite of the waves of uncertainty and fear,
I slept sounder and deeper than I had in years,
and dreamt that the animal kingdom had reclaimed
our world, undoing the damage heedlessly waged
by a reckless populace. The beasts rebalanced
the scales of our indifference: a second chance
to treat this Earth with the gratitude it deserves...
|
||||
11. |
Tory Campbell - Sakura
00:38
|
|||
A cherry blossom at the bottom of your street
has wept, casting petals, said to be edible,
onto rain-soaked tarmac, flavouring newly fresh
air with vanilla tobacco of sweet meadow.
Confetti the colour of pink coral now lies
beneath your feet: a sign that you are still alive.
|
||||
12. |
||||
A modern curse,
a deep-seated disease,
a killer as insidious
as cirrhosis
or crippling debt
or drinking alone,
anchored in a human need
for the comfort
and warmth
of skin brushing skin
nearly destroyed a town of goodly folk
hiding behind
closed doors,
drawn curtains
and raised fences,
defending their property
with a moat of indifference,
a portcullis of ignorance,
a trebuchet of inwardness
until one brave soldier besieged and broke down
these ramparts and battlements
with the simple mantra:
be kind, be kind and above all else, be kind.
|
||||
13. |
Gaynor Kane - Raised
01:32
|
|||
With your hands dusted as if from reading
tombstones, you lift the dough, warm as laundered
sheets from beneath a towel, and start kneading,
both heels stretching and pushing to conjure
a stonewashed boulder pillowy to touch
and brewery sweet with scent of soda...
|
||||
14. |
||||
This inverted space croons like an ocarina
as a cat’s paw sweeps through my careening
beachside home, suspended, as if by balloons,
past billowing waters and shifting dunes
to the great beyond. Slow days were once infrequent.
Now, it tastes all the more sublime to relinquish...
|
||||
15. |
Mel McMahon - Asclepeion
01:34
|
|||
And yet, so grateful for the winding down
of this clock:
a chance to stop, pause, reflect, convalesce
and take stock
of how we all ended up so cutthroat
and cut off,
to unyoke our heavy burdens, to walk
out of step
with jittering rhythms that rendered us
underslept...
|
||||
16. |
Anna Thompson - Lullaby
00:46
|
|||
Tomorrow, we will wake to a green light
pouring out like wine from a cracked ewer,
spreading across freshly laundered sheets,
tickling our chins like butterflies in flight.
We will stir gently. The hum of the street
will cradle us as the new day resets
with gentle fingers caressing our skin,
whispering promises of safe footsteps
as we forge into the day, hopefully,
bravely, arms like topsails between the sun
and North Wind, braced for impact as we sprint
headlong into the as yet uncharted.
|
Ross Thompson Bangor, UK
Northern Irish writer.
Debut collection Threading The Light available now from Dedalus Press.
Streaming and Download help
If you like A Silent War, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp