Jill Rooney 
Bilston UK


My poetry was regularly read on a local radio station some years ago, but writing was put to one side as I focused on visual arts. General reassessment during lockdown has led to me experimenting more with verbal works, and I hope to continue. 


28th January 2020 



Personal Space

Standing on a train
Standing on a packed out train
Breathing others’ breath
Used carbons riding through my brain

Mustn't touch old shoulders
Risk fingertips behind some face
Balance over bags
Draw in lightly giving stomach space

Watching expelled gusts
As they're refused on the windows
Dripping on a leg
Seeping through bent elbows

Absorbing doubled waste
Think nothing of the vapored breeze
Trebling furthermore
Expiring mixtures stir and wheeze

As crowd's internal bubbles
Draw outwards trickling down my face
Why grief-ridden troubles
As the split external connects space

Why the glint of fury
As a visual line joins up to yours
It's meaning will diminish
No attack will crawl into your pores

Standing on a train
Standing on a packed out train
Defeated futile thoughts
Fight out oxygens within my brain