Poetry | C.P. Nield


A line forms a crease on the belly of the earth
and moves –
moves west above

an invisible trench,
where mountain peaks glitter with white

Leviathan broods among valleys of wing-tips.
The lusca streams bubbles
the bandwidth of skulls.

A vast oblivion gives birth;
the verb ‘infect’ reels between ‘I’ and ‘you’;
the GPS satellite shrieks data.

A solitary wave quickens its own world,
a surge from root-throb to green

This one wave is the only world,
the last mass gathering
of Atlantic salt.

So the lungs expand.
So syntax patterns the end.
So the line forms, curves, gains power, breaks –

in droplets,
protests, bronchi, stanzas,
frequencies, projections, morgues.

C.P. Nield’s poetry has appeared in New Poetries IV (Carcanet) and journals like New Humanist, The North, The London Magazine, Ambit, Popshot, Magma and The Rialto. As a copywriter, he has worked with a number of environmental charities including Earthwatch and Friends of the Earth. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s