Dorothy Lehane
MUSIC OF THE SPHERES
instruments for the ear
consonants of hammers
the weight of hammers, dog hammers
gut strings, plucky experiments, perfect forth perfect fifth
maths and harmonies in the macro/micro
hammers and anvils in the exo/oxo
can you hear that, heptotonic prima
our chain of perfect fifths, back street octaves
we say no worries but oh yes, we have worries
chink each cluster of crystal, chink each kir royale,
chink Plato's dialogues, shhh the cosmos is singing
a seductress in harmony, in coherence, in design
whistling planets, in our ears since birth
hey nubile soundtrack
high note, oh heck, fixed star, low note
oh hell, moon if you like
ptolemy's harmony
seven planets, seven thoughts, seven states
your song lingers in my body
stretches from the turbulence
of each supermarket twang twang
the planets chime
bring that model perfect model
VINTAGE
White dwarfs encumbered by aged bodies. Here and now. Appellation Contrôlée; Reblochon, Pinot Noir, Yellowism. Core collapsing, barbiturates in pillboxes; everything learnt into a compressed philosophy, blue menopause, diamond judgement, no one likes a jaunty soundtrack. Crystallised rue, dementia is luminous: look away if you want retinal survival, go cubic lattice, yes.
Sea of electron, hop- exploit, satellites rank senility in stuttering flanks; we are truly irritable, crosswords iron brain exercise if we believe it, we are uncanny survivors manoeuvrings this way that way. Gestural world. Teeth, formaldehyde. A nexus of new bone marrow. Call this necromancy, no, call this standard model. Sullen froth. All aesthete will end. What's left behind. Oh yes, we have words for all this.
Ligaments, strong ways, gummy pavement palette. Stubbed out subsidence, hankie spit, artichoke is a veg, is a fruit, tomato is a veg, is a fruit, street architecture: first pronouns by church lychgates, confetti base, until the widows pause, smoke hard, crush against, pant, perfect axle fingers rising up, restart a route, end a tenure right there, we disinfect dead husbands, spend such little time in the mirror.
JEWEL BOX
plunge this, plunge that
if we are a family, call us cluster,
sire a stellar embryo
clutch in a hot muddle, an ignition
spluttering fallopian splut
I want to meet your past wives,
piece you back together,
undress camouflage,
drum your penumbra
wink in wink out,
who needs wisdom
when a furnace birth is misé en scene
I have loved your gurgling consciousness,
eternal cycle, transmuted murk,
oh, fireballs will blaze, backs against walls,
blinked out as though a chorus,
radio waves scatter, waning skeletons of light
in long drawn-out wavelengths
bouncing around, each family, each cluster,
this is one sad jewel box, say it with a posy; orange poppy,
crumpled physics
Copyright Dorothy Lehane 2013
Dorothy Lehane teaches Creative Writing at The University of Kent. She is an editor of Litmus Publishing and is curating the Poetry Meets Biomedical Science project, which is an interdisciplinary collaboration between
scientists and poets. Her poetry has been published in magazines and anthologies such as Oxford Poetry,
Poetry News, The Rialto, and Aesthetica Magazine and in the most recent issues of Tears in the Fence, Under The Radar, and Annexe Magazine. She was recently short-listed for the Jane Martin 2013 Poetry Prize, and the 2012 Bridport Prize. She was awarded first prize in the Norwich 2012 Writers' Circle competition and was Canterbury Poet of the Year in 2009.
scientists and poets. Her poetry has been published in magazines and anthologies such as Oxford Poetry,
Poetry News, The Rialto, and Aesthetica Magazine and in the most recent issues of Tears in the Fence, Under The Radar, and Annexe Magazine. She was recently short-listed for the Jane Martin 2013 Poetry Prize, and the 2012 Bridport Prize. She was awarded first prize in the Norwich 2012 Writers' Circle competition and was Canterbury Poet of the Year in 2009.
