tell me what you are

EIC FIELD NOTES, NEW POETRY

a sunrise the colour of clementines becomes the whole world. time sits on the tip of the moor and i want to hold it inside myself for a little longer. the wood cradles our faces until a story thumps out of a hare and into my body. the words clear and bright peel open in me as a rose. under the soil bound sun we become more human. Jai Michelle Louissen

june arrives in tiny new ponies. lemon trees blossoming like stars. apples fleshing on the branch. the roses are here too, thousands of them dream their scent through my window from our garden. on monday i made a jam with their petals and wild strawberries faithful to cottagecore stylings. turning myself into something sweet and slow to alchemise the sour of the news. i recognise the privilege i have to be able to do so, to access the natural world and comprehend the safety there. and the roses transfigured the strawberry nectar into a puce heady delight.

natures opera has been in full performance here at the winged moon. our new submission window, BIOPHILIA is still open and i have been reading your writing, easing myself in before the final submergence next month. on thursday our uncovering biophilia series concludes and i have read some remarkable books in preparation. The Overstory by Richard Powers enchanted me as did The Body is a Doorway by Sophie Strand. and the poetry too, hundreds of naturesleek words that are the spine of the workshops. we will make the recordings available to purchase if you missed us.

this week we are placing ourselves in earthen hinterlands with writing inspired by our prior theme and dipping its toe into the new. these words written by Julie Allyn Johnson and Emily Tee run with colour inviting the reader to pause in their poetry of place and belonging. these sandwich the remarkable and moving collage work of Jenny Lloyd from her flowers of palestine series.

LITTLE CROOKED CREEK
Julie Allyn Johnson        
 

this white cleanliness 
sheathed in clover
streaks like a 747 
on an icy runway
bound for France, 
its aura at once
sacrosanct red 
and royal purple—
a desiccated egg yolk, 
gaunt & rubbery
no secret handshake, 
just meadows & birdsong

all is not madness
are there not 
still small delights?
ragged bodies made whole
now supine, 
enveloped in the arms
of magnificent women
smothered in elderberry,
intoxicated 
with a violent starlight

THE GREEN MYTH OF ME IS BUILT ON GRANITE
Emily Tee

Picture me as a landscape, green strata over deep brown earth
that's rich with peat, the colour of seeped tannins
steeped in rainwater that has become a rich broth, a fragrant tea
puddling, overflowing, spilling into pools and loughs
that become the earth's bright grey eyes reflecting low lidded skies,
sun and clouds journey across them mapping my existence.

The land of my birth has always forged steadfast folk,
able to withstand and keep on withstanding
with solid granite hearts - not hardened, but steady as rock.
Above, there's the layers of life and movement - a ripple of grasses,
wildflowers, rushes, reeds that rustle in the wind,
that whisper spring's arrival on water meadow edges,
sing summer's songs, sigh autumn laments, chant winter prayers.

Whether it's along mountain trails or across sandy dunes
the same spirit moves, cutting to the centre, the core.
Willows bend without breaking, and the spines of woodlands
are braced by ancient bog oak and blackthorn boughs.

My land's a canvas carved from rock by weather and water,
green foliage the paint, markings made by fish, fowl and beast.
The tellers of stories and myths here must weave their tales
where humans and gods take animal forms to shape the stories
of love, war, tragedy and truth.  My own telling is never
the same twice, layers of meaning peeling back and back,
getting to bedrock, the true granite heart of me.



originally published in Lothlorian Poetry Journal, 21 March

we hope you enjoyed this weeks colourful offerings, I will be writing again to our paid subscribers within the next days to share our monthly curated submission list. if you’d like to subscribe, to receive that and join our write along and book club, there is more than enough space for everyone.

until next time

Jai Michelle Louisssen

Founder & EIC

Julie Allyn Johnson is a sawyer's daughter from the American Midwest whose current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric.  A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, her poetry can be found in Star*Line, Coffin Bell, Haikuniverse and other journals.  

Emily Tee, originally from Northern Ireland, lives in the UK Midlands.  She writes about nature, the environment and society.  She's had poems published in print by Dreich, Poetry Scotland, Free Verse Revolution, several anthologies by The Wee Sparrow Poetry Press, the 'Ancient' edition of The Winged Moon and other places online including Green Ink Press.

Jenny Lloyd is an artist and designer based in beautiful Amsterdam, where I make handcrafted and digital collage illustrations for magazines, album art, book covers, zines, and other custom pieces and commissions. I love to combine vintage and modern ephemera to create mysterious, escapist worlds, where new stories and fresh feelings emerge to be explored, and each piece has a spirit of its own.