Trevor Maynard
Trevor Maynard Poems
John Donne once lived here
Or so it says on the blue plaque
Erected to commemorate
On the house opposite, the other side
...
Even should Lawrence expiate the pity
Describe in metaphor as he will the fig and snake
None of this is as anything to this
Two centuries later exceeding the equal of the take
...
Among the lavender sweet where
Sperry and golden buttercup grew
Grass matted with daisy chain
Blanket, wine, cheeks blushing anew
...
I didn’t really notice her, to start with,
A girl with too shaped hair and clothes beyond her years
It wasn’t right, clearly not right
...
A long slow, excruciatingly so, word in my ear. The market veneer had cracked, they made it clear, they would have to delineate and define the bottom line; they were going to have to let me go
...
the carpet was a stringy grass
thick stranded and knotted and of indeterminate brown,
old
...
It is as if, before I woke
A great hand reached across the sky
And lightly placed a stencil in the clouds
...
I've walked this path
Seen the brambles, heard the geese
Without cognition: just noise
Been through it in my mind
...
"Good morning, Mrs Green, is you daughter home? "
She shakes her head and look in gloom at the cloudy vista
One of Man's Aves thunders silently by: so high, you see
"Looks like rain, Mr Milk, "says Mrs Green, to me; I agree
...
The tip of my tongue rests against the inside of my teeth
Which for me, means I am thinking, it is what they call
A tell
...
The mountain is there to be climbed
The weather its own
Maybe violent maybe calm
Funny like Cagney
...
Trevor Maynard Biography
Currently calling for submissions for his latest curating project LOOKING IN LOOKING OUT - poems of up to sixty lines by 12 April 2023 to www.willowdownbooks.com. His most recent publication is PARADOX - his fourth collection of poetry, He recently edited Human to Human, featuring 28 poets, The Poetic Bond X, featuring 43 poets from around the world, and Poems from the Lockdown, featuring 146 poems by 115 poets from 11 countries. Before that he edited Who Are We? then short stories on theme of identity and race. HIs latest project is a call for poetry for POEMS FROM THE LOCKDOWN 2.022 - details at willowdownbooks.com. His next publication will be CONCATAVERSE, due for publication in March 2022. He has several published collections including The Path Now Known, Grey Sun Dark Moon, and Keep on Keepin' On, as well as his one-act play anthology Four Truths. He has been the editor of the international poetry anthology series The Poetic Bond since 2011 and published the tenth and final volume in November 2020. The Poetic Bond has showcased the work of 236 poets from 37 countries. In 2020 he also edited Nature 20/20, an anthology of 21 poets on the theme of the environment. Trevor is also the editor of the Cunningham Short Story Anthologies Life Dances (2017) and Our World, Your Place (2018) , Nine Frames (2019) . Who Are We? (2020) . Other publications featuring his work include Aesthetica, Tuck, October Hill, Deep Underground, Poetry, Life and Times, Miracle, and the anthology Men in the Company of Women (EAP) . Trevor is a member of The Poetry Society (UK) and formerly an executive member of The Writer's Guild of Great Britain, and treasurer of The Theatre Writers' Union. He is the manager of the LinkedIn poetry forum Poetry, Review, and Discuss, which has 21,700 members.)
The Best Poem Of Trevor Maynard
At John Donne's House
John Donne once lived here
Or so it says on the blue plaque
Erected to commemorate
On the house opposite, the other side
Of the Navigation
We are near Newark Priory, whose history
I do not know, but I would surmise
The monks who once lived here
Do not live here now
Donne, famously revealed that no man
Is an island; we are not alone, though I
Think he was postulating God, not aliens
True or not, man may not be alone but
Man certainly wanted to be alone sometimes
Away
Away from his own ubiquity, his own company
We mass together; churching, sporting, theatering,
Chattering, wailing, shooting guns and pictures
Boy, do we like to photograph each other!
I wait; for the walkers to turn the bend
Taking their dogs; for the canoeists and the cyclists;
For the canal boats; for all of them to go; waiting
Two hours so far, at Donne’s “John Donne lived here” sign
Waiting
For the duck feeders to move on, for the distant traffic
To subside; two hours and then
Peace? No, a light aircraft, man in the clouds
Islands of water staining a cloudless sky, Man
Held there, only by noise and sheer bloody-mindedness
We are a stubborn bunch, Mankind
Alone, not quite an island, almost free
The Brent Geese jump in the water and the thrush
And swallows sing; the grass falls silent
Poetry as a transient idea of humanity floating by
Dogs bark again, ramblers discuss the weather again
A lorry reverses, another aeroplane, high, a jet
Leaves a whispering trail, no man is an island
No man is God; Donne’s ghost walks on
(The first part of the six part piece, Donne Roamin')
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