ambulant poems
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I wish you all the blessings of the Easter season — and none of the abdominal complaints that may accompany it! As has become all too customary on this blog, I also apologise for my absence. After celebrating being back in the saddle, I was knocked out of commission by a bout of tonsillitis, which
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Michelle McGrane has been generous enough to offer to post a couple of poems from The Ambulance Box on her blog Peony Moon. You can now read “The Invention of Zero” and “Lullaby” on there, along with blurby bits and a short bio. Many thanks, Michelle! It’s turned into quite an encouraging week on the
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Lullaby this is the arm that held you this is the hand that cradled your cold feet these are the ears that heard you whimper and cough throughout your brush with light this is the chest that warmed you these are the eyes that caught your glimpse of life this is the man you fathered
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This weekend’s* Saturday poem in The Scotsman was the title poem from The Ambulance Box**. Great publicity for the collection! I’d heard several weeks ago that it was happening and knew the date but it only occurred to me in the middle of the week that it would be the Holy Saturday poem. An appropriate
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We’ve reached the half-way point of March, which means I take over the mantle of Scottish Poetry Library poet of the month from Rob. This means that, until the end of the month, “The Invention of Zero” will greet you whenever the cyberwaves deposit you on the SPL’s home page. Of course, once March has
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The day has come! Today, 1 March 2009, is the official publication date for The Ambulance Box and Rob A Mackenzie‘s marvellous book, The Opposite of Cabbage. To celebrate, here’s the title poem from my collection: The Ambulance Box No one can swear how it fellinto our hands. No one can fathom its substance or
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“Wandelvakanties Dicht bij Huis“, one of the poems from The Ambulance Box, has just appeared today as part of the short season of other poets Jane Holland is running at the moment on her Raw Light blog. I’ve updated the sidebar with links to it and several other poems, including one in the wonderful this
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this is the arm that held youthis is the hand that cradled your cold feet these are the ears that heard youwhimper and cough throughout your brush with light this is the chest that warmed youthese are the eyes that caught your glimpse of life this is the man you fathered—his voided love, his writhen
Amy Jo Philip 