Sheena Blackhall Poems

When the Earth Dies
When the earth dies,
All that will be left
Will be a table with no picnic
...

Stick man, his gait is stilted
From the gape that is his mouth
A stream of eloquent words
Random and unconnected
...

1.Ballad

Oh cauld's the doonrush o a burn
In winter's iron thraa,
...

On the first morning after her first bleeding
The girl bathes.

The girl washes her hair in suds from a yucca root
...

He had a mind inquisitive and quick
And he could sing the mavis off her perch
With his bravura swagger, cock of the walk
His flashing eye, oh he could charm the women
...

At the Shrine of the Prima Donna of the self
Top Dog is the worship of dollars
Here, Tracy Emin's the high priestess
Of the cult of me me me
...

The house of the owl
Nets stars and moonshine nightly
Her feathers are unruffled, her soundless flight
Runs faster than spilled quicksilver
...

Decrepitude, dementia, old age
The silver surfer daily counts the pills
Stalking the spotlight on life's fleeting stage
...

Standing in the North Sea
The weight of water grips my calves
It's an icy anklet, a chilly shackle
...

Ten summers young. The day, all heat on heather.
The purple pathway brittle underfoot,
The peat as springy's cork,
I clambered Lochnagar for the first time
...