Malcolm Evison Poems
- The Old Man They hang; a heavy weightlessness, like long ...
- Rebecca Jayne Observing the precarious existence of ...
- A Spun Illusion A few slender lines of spider ...
- Being God spoke – I dare not listen. I could not face
- Aubade Wrapped futilely in the realm of beauty sleep ...
- Close Encounter That day you found time’s precipice and ...
- The Yo-Yo Man Whirling, it made the day seem shorter ...
Born 1944 in Canterbury. Educated Bede Grammar School, Sunderland 1956-60. University of Hull 1972-75. Urban Theology Unit, Sheffield 1976-77.
Currently resides in Harrogate, North Yorkshire.
Perpetual student of Philosophy and Theology. Prolific poetry output in the 1960's, published in various periodicals and 'performed' at various readings in London. Sometime chair of Harrogate Poetry Workshop. When I took up painting (http: //malspaintings.bravehost.com/main.html) , once more, in the 1980's the poetic muse seemed to desert me. The dry period followed one where the muse had become far too effusive and, to coin a sculptural metaphor, the effort of chipping away at a ... more »
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The Old Man
They hang; a heavy weightlessness,
like long forgotten memories
seeking renewal. The man sits,
beside the window, looking
at the clouds. Remembering.
But nothing quite fits. If only
he could pass, at will, into
insanity. That would remove
the purgatory – desiring flames
to quench the smouldering remnants
of a life. He sits, beside the window,
watching the clouds. And waiting;
waiting for night-fall. Remembering.