Edward Calais

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I grew up in London after my family emigrated to the UK when I was 7. School and university in London. A career in training and development meant I wrote hardly at all, except training materials.

Poetry tugged at my elbow persistently, but I ignored her...until now! She has been a faithful shadow and I am grateful for her patience and persistence with me. The prodiagal poet is home. more »

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Best Poem of Edward Calais

Learning To Kill

I stood on the battlefield
Naked at five or six, goading,
Aiming, hurling up mighty sticks.
And then counting thuds
Of the fallen.

It was as if
I had not taken food before or since.
I stripped skin with my teeth
And gnawed muscle, a vampire,
Let the wet spurt out up my nose, my grinning bite,
My pinch-eyed delight
And my mouth dripping with sinew and flavour,
Gorging, clamping, spinning, kissing,
Like a mother’s sweet tit sucked, or a lover’s.

My hands ran blood to elbows,
Chest sticky smeared, spattered again,
My tongue licking ...

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