Peter A Kelly

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the poet

Peter A. - poetry first prize winner at the 2016 Paisley Spree Fringe - has been published widely - Laldy, Spindrift, Poems for Grenfell Tower, A Kist of Thistles, A Kind of Stupidity and Bridges or Walls?. During 2020 his work appeared in a number of anthologies - Words from Battlefield, Poets Against Trump, Surfing, The Angry Manifesto and Black Lives Matter- Poems for a New World. So far in 2021 his poetry has appeared in a number of Dreich anthologies and his debut chapbook Art of Insomnia, was published by Hedgehog Poetry Press.

the poems

Found in France

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Though you would have to concede

its picture perfect rural beauty

here for the record are the things

you wouldn’t like about the place.

The middle of the countryside

such a distance from anywhere.

The crowded transport

transferring from the airport.

The open windows to keep the place cool

inviting houseflies.

The doorway dogs, the ever-darting

omnipresent lizards.

The lack of television.

The steps, useful for others,

which would be impossible for you.

Around those steps the lavender

which at home would aid your sleeping

but here for you a nightmare,

attracting wasps and bees.

The spider’s improbably small body,

impossibly spindly long legs,

waiting in the shower room, patiently.

Also the tiny white spider

- I bet you never saw an entirely white spider!

The mosquitoes, the hornets.

The blood-sucking horseflies

almost certainly lining up to feast upon

you in particular.

The bats awaiting

the chance to be entangled in

your lush long hair.

The swimming pool that would be out of bounds for you.

The conversation in which you would not wish to speak.

The revelation before bedtime

concerning the cleaner’s cat,

its trophy mice and

the minor flea infestation

- successfully eradicated we think

but let us know if you get bitten.

As for me,

the only aspect of the French place

I do not appreciate

is you

not being here.

After

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After words

their last have

spoken and

from here gone

Afterwards

it is said

cockroaches

will make the

earth their own

Do you see

already

some   may be

working to

inherit

behind the

scenes   planning

preparing

strategies

awaiting

the endgame

from which all

cockroach-types

are due to

benefit

after the black

rainfall/after

the slaughter of

words and laughter

After

Late Night Teardrop

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I should certainly stop

viewing old home movies,

not because of their patchiness

or participants’ awkwardness -

that’s all part of their charm.

Not because of their faded definition -

I always liked the Impressionists.

Not because they are silent cinema,

recorded with the cheapest camera,

but because they leave my heart haunted.

Publishing credits

S h a r e