CAUGHT IN THE NET 74- POETRY BY EILEEN CARNEY HULMESeries Editor - Jim Bennett
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Introduction by Jim Bennett
Hello. Welcome to the next in the series of CITN featured poets. We will be looking at the work of a different poet in each edition and I hope it will help our readers to discover some new and exciting writing. This series is open to all to submit and I am now keen to read new work for this series.
You can join the CITN mailing list at - http://www.poetrykit.org/pkl/index.htm and following the links for Caught in the Net.
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at Kelvingrove Art Gallery
we loop the chantries
of Old Masters and Impressionists
but it’s the Pre-Raphaelites
who capture my soul
from; Sacred to Lovers by Eileen Carney Hulme
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CONTENTS
1 - BIOGRAPHY
2 – POETRYSifting Karma
Mary
Love Song of the Boatman
The Soldier’s Wife
4 - AFTERWORD
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1 – BIOGRAPHY: Eileen Carney Hulme
Eileen Carney Hulme now lives in the far North of Scotland. She has lived and worked in Europe and London as a library assistant and as a practitioner and tutor of complementary therapies. Her first collection of poems Stroking The Air was published by Bluechrome of Bristol in 2005 and the book was awarded third place in The Purple Patch Best Collections Award 2005
Her second poetry collection The Space Between Rain was published by Indigo Dreams Publishing on 1st June 2010 and has received a number of excellent reviews.
Her poems have appeared in poetry magazines, anthologies and internet poetry websites. She has won several prizes and been placed or Highly Commended in many competitions including; The City Of Derby Short Story and Poetry Competition, Coffee House Poetry Competition, Hastings International Poetry Competition, Partners Annual Poetry Competition, Indigo Dreams Press Poetry Awards, The Sheila Nugent Awards and The Dawntreader Awards.
Email: echulme@hotmail.com
Website: www.eileencarneyhulme.org.uk
Pubisher: www.indigodreamsonline.com
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2 - POETRY
Sacred To Lovers
Jumping off the train
at Glasgow Central
we collide with the day
scoop the rhythm
of the city, the chill
of shadows cast
at Kelvingrove Art Gallery
we loop the chantries
of Old Masters and Impressionists
but it’s the Pre-Raphaelites
who capture my soul
downstairs in the café-bar
nuzzling hot chocolate
and ruled by Venus
I decide to buy a miniature framed print
of Hesperus, the evening star,
ruled by Mars
you do not view this as a risk.
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Goodbyes
There is no unfolding of gentle day
the rhythmic churn of bodies turning
uncurling bones, the scattering of ghosts
there are no sighs
as though a season faded
slowly, the fall of leaf and branch
there is only the ambush
of night, doors and darkness
and the trembling weight of rain.
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Sifting Karma
I wanted to ask you
about Hesperus and early
mornings like this in the North
where the brightest star
is a talisman and a crimson lake
floats on a faraway sky
I wanted to know how
you slept and if your dreams
were white clouds trailing over
distant mountains and if your hands
held blossoms or snow
I wanted to tell you
that on countless walks
I have gathered these gifts-
leaves, pebbles, a melted
moon and three leftover kisses
from a picnic on the dunes.
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Mary
For years my mother
polished brass and wood in church,
her tiny hands performing miracles
on a daily basis
During school holidays
or sometimes on a Saturday
I shared her working day
At first I was afraid
of empty pews and pulpit,
silent saints on stained glass
or marbled, staring back at me
A room full of vestments
threaded red, gold and purple-
outfits for any occasion
My mum’s voice like a prayer
would call out
to fetch more polish or a clean duster
It was as holy to me
as any hymn,
her smile circling every corner
Now when I go to church
and it isn’t often,
I look at the shiny candleholders,
smell the beeswax mixed with frankincense
I hear the sound
of my mother singing
and light a candle
giving thanks.
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Hand–Picked
In the shed I find
dried teasel and sea holly
your old gardening gloves
the big pot you used
for winter soups
filled now with crab apples
I imagine you sitting
in your favourite spot,
watching bees, butterflies,
birds feeding, planning your recipe
of crab apple and chilli jelly,
I know you liked the kick
Never one to play safe,
I remember the photographs,
you in khaki uniform
tracking incoming bombers
married to a gunner, my father,
days of Spitfires, air raids
And eerie silences
a promise of peace
a last dance.
I put on your gloves for protection
pick up teasel and sea holly
begin a blue wreath.
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Love Song of the Boatman
At the old boathouse
after you’d shown me
your stone skimming skills
I say ‘we’re in danger’
As you breathe orange-blossom
secrets on the bare of my neck
we are unwrapping summer
like children at the coast
Kidnapping the sun
building invisible sand castles
treading barefoot over rocks
slip sliding on dreams
You say ‘angels once lived here
watching over the boatmen’
for a second we are still
listening for their presence
On the wooden beams we scroll
hieroglyphs of lovers long travelled
water hums and your fingers are feathers
beating the drum of my heart.
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The Soldier’s Wife
I bring you Longjing tea
bought from the street hawkers
in Hangzhou
scented sweet-
we sip in silence-
the wind outside settles to a whisper.
Tomorrow you will travel
without me and the months ahead
will burn to dust
with orders to follow
you will be trapped
in a land of broken dreams.
When you cannot sleep
count the steps up to the temple
at Hangzhou’s aromatic mountain
remember how I read the leaves-
their slender shape
life-giving and waiting.
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The Bigger Picture
I know you would have liked this tree
its ghostly branches cast as runes
against the glow of late October
Sitting here without reason
with nothing to say,
thinking of your heart
keeping time with mine,
dancing barefoot on the kitchen floor
or grass, or on the sand,
thinking that perhaps you might come
here, to find me
There are pebbles in my pocket
from my walk on the beach.
Was that yesterday? I forget now.
I turn them over and over
hoping they might have something to tell
But I wait in silence
with a tangle of thoughts,
the day dispersing,
watching this space, a thumbprint
of life without you.
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Missing
I said your name
six times today, out loud
asked six people had they seen you
lately, near the orchard
where the apples thrum
and gaping mouths await
or perhaps they’d glimpsed
your shadow in the dunes,
whispering secrets to the marram grass,
walking to where the waves break
with the sea shaping
wrongs and rights
no-one knew where you’d gone
or how long you’d been away,
doors and windows boarded up,
the dull of sea-salt mouldering the past
and our almost days and nights
somewhere else, distant, unlived.
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Jock
August is autumnal here in the North
the subtle change of air-
its scent, its breath
today, walking, I’m reminded
of you and the years I lived
in the Gardener’s Cottage
you were the gardener and the cottage
rented out now
daily you’d pedal to work
with your bicycle clips on,
I would hear you whistling
cutting logs, placing a brown paper bag
filled with fresh vegetables
outside my door, its contents
a reminder of each changing season
sometimes I would come to find you
in the wood-shed or in the grounds
your back bent to the task
your life reflected in your hands-
top of one finger missing
a black thumb nail
‘I’ve just put the kettle on’, I’d say
you’d lay your spade or saw to rest
and happily we’d pass the time of day
when I told you it was time for me
to move on, I said keep in touch
I’ll send my new address
you replied you were not one for writing
and that you’d think of me often
years later a mutual friend wrote to tell me
you’d died, in the tool–shed I picture
your worn work jacket with
the stray wood shavings hanging on its nail
I think of your smile-
your complexion-
your life complete.
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3 - Publishing History
Sacred To Lovers Published in The Space Between Rain
Goodbyes Published in The Space Between Rain and winner of The Forres Library Poetry Competition
Sifting Karma Published in The Space Between Rain, first published in Poetry Scotland and Highly Commended in The Indigo Dreams Poetry Awards
Mary Published in Stroking The Air
Hand–Picked Published in The Space Between Rain and voted 3rd place reader’s vote in Reach Poetry
Love Song of the Boatman Shortlisted Partners Annual Poetry Competition published in Aspire
The Soldier’s Wife Published in Reach Poetry
The Bigger Picture Published in The Space Between Rain, runner up in Coffee House Poetry Competition
Missing Published in The Space Between Rain
Jock Published in The Space Between Rain and Reach Poetry
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4 - Afterword
Email Poetry Kit - info@poetrykit.org - if you would like to tell us what you think. We are looking for other poets to feature in this series, and are open to submissions. Please send one poem and a short bio to - info@poetrykit.org
Thank you for taking the time to read Caught in the Net. Our other magazine s are Transparent Words ands Poetry Kit Magazine, which are webzines on the Poetry Kit site and this can be found at - http://www.poetrykit.org/