Eliza Dear

Circus act

It could have been the trapeze artist
he with his arm muscles ready
to catch
or the sequined outfit which shone
as she swung

then there was Daniel
with his tousled headed cats
and the elephants ponderously noble
inspite of their trainers

not the clowns
not the laughing at
fumbling and falling

it could have been the tightrope-walking
well practised-for on the metal gate
across the yard
it didn’t really matter

it was to be centre stage
in that glorious light

then there was the woman who held on
by her teeth
to a sort of a thing on the end of a rope
they spun her whizzing round so fast
and she hung on

she hung on by her teeth

 

 

 

The bridesmaid’s dress

‘Stand still,’ she said
between the pins in her mouth

I held my breath
how could I stand
any stiller

She knelt
her hands travelled
all over my body
pulled here
pushed there

I began to dream
of being a princess
when I felt
a strange life
under my skin

pins in, pins out
touch tingles

I could have stood forever

 

 

 

 

In mourning

1

I wore black knickers the night
I went to listen to Alice Walker
Why I didn’t know
Until I heard her words

I mourned lost vulvas, cut labia
I mourned chopped clitorises
Stitched vaginas
I mourned stuffed breasts
Lopped ribs
I mourned bound deformed feet
Reshaped noses

I mourned my mother
My unknowing of her
Her blood red nails
Her secret forest

2

Alice Walker I wanted to hug you
Thank you for tracing the story
Of women’s wounds and scars
Love preparation for healing

I want to shout yes
We will change the world
We will create a world
Where vulva petals blossom
Where breasts curve to their own design
And feet pay homage to the earth

 

 

 

 

Death come gently

For Kate Keane Leenane, County Galway

You knew
You knew how to do it
You knew how to die

It took a week
Gave them time
To come from England, Scotland
Gave them time
To paper the front room
Time for the neighbours
To pay their last respects

Then on the Monday morning
You said to your daughter
I am going now, goodbye

You had danced enough jigs
In your black boots
Sung enough songs
For the tourists
Baked enough cakes of bread
On your turf fire
Slept enough cold nights
With your hat kept on
And seen your son from America
After forty years

You knew
You knew when the time was right
You knew when to die

 

 

 

 

Prize-winner in Barnet competition for tribute poems judged by Elaine Feinstein 1996

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