Sunday, February 18, 2007

coming soon, spring 2007

'The White'
a collection from
Poet Lauren
free copies avaliable for review,
email
please provide postal address

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Paris Bitter Hearts Pit Volume 3 (due out in oct.2006)

featuring Lauren's poem 'Lost Sock Circus'


www.parisbitterheartspit.blogspot.com

Also featured in PBHP 3:
A Jataka Tale, as retold by Tom Bradley
Two Poems by Matt Finney
What Would You Do? By Fern Bryant
True lives of Hollywood script writers, by Bob ShortDavy
Coppelli, by Heidi James-Garwood
Lost Sock Circus by Lauren McCarthy
The Royal We by Peter Wild
Not here when they get here (leipzig) , by Matthew Wascovich
Free Particulars, by The Anonymous-Ex

posted by vim cortez on the PBHB blog - link above
Poetry Collection featuring Patrick Jones and Nicky Wire (manic street preachers)

"Last wRites: Poetry inspired by the destruction of St. Davids Wood, Blackwood, Wales, Spring 2004."

To buy a book (dontations go to Cancer Research) send £2 to:
Mrs I Jones, Greenfield Park Terrace, Woodfieldside Blackwood, S.Wales NP12 OEP

www.manics.com
www.nickyssecretsociety.com
www.myspace.com/nickywiressecretsociety

Monday, March 20, 2006

‘To Nana Mac’

Your wedding dress
1938
Stored
In the attic
Eaves above
Where I slept
From 3 (when you died)
‘Till 2003
Did you take
The buttons
Off?
It fits me
Like skin
The colour of pearl

© Lauren McCarthy 2006

Sunday, March 19, 2006

‘King’s Sugar’

King’s Sugar
Is bitter
To taste
Strangely
Soft
To touch
Queen’s Honey
Amber, Glass, Syrup
Sticky
Smelly
Sweet
Summer
Modern Nuns
Don’t keep bees
I know this
Because
Email exists
Praying 4u
Holy
Sista

© Lauren McCarthy 2006



‘Spores’

Spores
Like the
Secret Garden
Infect you silently
Fruit Bodies
In the grass
In a ring
Kill or cure
Seeping poison
Via ostiole
Skin
Ripe
Picked
In the forests
Of Finland

© Lauren McCarthy 2006




‘£20’

Underbid
Antique set
Of twin decks
In brown leather
Box
Sellotape damage
Exposes
Suede
Like dead skin
On a
Grazed knee

© Lauren McCarthy 2006
‘Cooker’

Apple tree
Once in open meadow
Grew
Now in
Urban garden
Fenced
Full of children
In branches
All trainers
And swing tyres
Bark caught
In hair
Wasps burrow
In fruit
Footballs held
Out of reach
In canopy high
Above a little boy
And girl
And their friends
How old are you?
Big and aged
Solid
Smelling
Of wood
With
Unknown variety

© Lauren McCarthy 2006

Friday, March 17, 2006

‘Gift of War’

Stained ruby port
Faux
Shagreen
Covered wooden
Box
Embossed
Gilt
Fleur-de-Lys
Border
Watermarks like
Dripped blood
Dried brown
Tarnished clasp
Intact
Hinges roll
Revealing
Dirty cream
Lining
Blooming
With blue ink
Roped
Padded base
Husks
Of perished
Fleas
In every nook
Perfume of time
Lifting
Soft
Lid silk
Backed in
French text;
SANCTIFICATION DU LEVER
‘ …les résoulutions que vous m’avez soutenez-moi par votre grâce, afin……
puisse dire de nous ce que l’ Evangne…
Jésus-Christ: Il a bien fait toutes….
Pour cela, il faut avoir soin de…’
(‘The decisions that you advise me support me by your grace in order to…
provide and tell us of the Gospel…
Jesus-Christ: he is good to serve you all…
For he needs to have care of…’)
‘…mais que toutes mes pensées, mes paroles…
tendent à l’accomplissement…
Jésus-Christ par…
trés-sainte Vierge, des sainte…
(‘…but that all my thoughts, my words…
holder of the accomplishments….
Jesus-Christ by…
Most holy Virgin, the saint…)



c Lauren McCarthy 2006 with French Bible text
‘Light of Ages’

Derelict but showing signs of life (a used condom, cigarette ends, empty blue syringe) a station platform high on a hill overlooking the City and its skyline of high-rises, office blocks and homes of industry and commerce, the sound of the traffic lifting and floating to the platform like the humming of an exotic bird, the buzz of a million killer bees. Alight Here For Railway Museum (what museum?) industrial estate, Asian taxi driver, greyness and waste in the gutter, rotting organic debris and diesel. Don’t light a match. And the storm is approaching, from this vantage point the city has a lid of mauve stratocumulus creeping downwards in milky ribbons pregnant with rain. But in this desolation and the chill, three rays of sun break through the cloud, great shafts of light, like heaven’s ladder, or an alien beam, spotlight the city miles apart, the whole sight is infinity.


© Lauren McCarthy 2006
‘Underneath My Clothes I Am Completely Naked’

Latin is
Dead
She said;
Infra ego
Vestis,
In puris
Naturalibus
All
In our skins
Of oil and protein
Tissue soft
Opaque scars
Fine down
Over plucked
Under nourished
Embroidered twisted
Blue threads
Red
At once
Itch
Scratch me

© Lauren McCarthy 2006