Sheena Blackhall Poems

A Negress with a knotted, tasselled scarf,
Power-shouldered jacket, buckskin moccasins
Cromwellian warts on cheek and nose and chin
Fingers the ancient carvings, clucks in awe
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Perhaps he is sick of being a scarecrow
As I sometimes ache to be anything other than me
Now that I'm all dried up, like a squeezed orange
Like a swan on tenterhooks
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He appeared, a short-arsed man in a uniform,
Walking funny, strutting like a goose
As if his legs wore callipers
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Like a dog that’s lost the scent
On a night of snow and dark
I sat outside the door of what’s Not Home Now
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The High Rise block in Anytown
Sucks up folk like a straw

It stands in the dusk
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'I was a high wire artist with a circus
I kicked my legs in the air, hung over Death
My aunt's a thirteenth cousin to Camilla'
The girl announced. 'I'm terribly well bred.'
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The hare ran fast through Blueberry Wood
Quick as a river flowing
The sun was warm and the land was good
Now was the time for growing
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1.Wild Mentors

When a bird is hurt
It cries in half - notes
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Do not speak too soon, or too often
Hum a little....Mmmmm....de.dum dum dum
Pour yourself into a nearby space
Like water into a jug
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You should have seen your man at the bar on Friday!
Over Daniel's wife he was like rash
Didn't you wonder where he was till Sunday?
Daniel's wife is the village bike, white trash.
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