Poem
Luke Kennard
HALÁTNOST
HALÁTNOST
HALÁTNOST
He sleeps! He sleeps! A whisper passes round;His orchestra is tiptoeing away
From the four-poster bed in which he lies
When someone knocks a cello through a bank
Of clarinets; wearily the players
Return to their sheet-music; this will be
Another long night in his company.
It could be dawn before they stumble through
The wild gardens of this ancient house
Where he, behind a leafy window sets
Upon his education – like a cat
Preserved in amber in an attitude
Of fury. To be seen to learn’s enough,
He told his henchman in a rare display
Of trust (betrayed – the henchman told the cook).
Tomorrow he will reference his paper
On characters crushed by falling pianos
In tragedy or comedy – but now
He cannot sleep; he is sick with worry:
For what if he is evil, after all?
What if this insubstantial kindness is
Another weapon? His brow creases up.
A piano hitched to the ceiling creaks;
The strands of twine will snap in perfect fifths
Before it falls – Oh, let it fall on me.
A dead aunt from a war-torn city sends
Three children – who arrive next morning, with a note
Of introduction; two boys and a girl.
Something in their expressions is askew –
Like people in Nineteenth Century scenes
Who did not imagine their faces would
Affect the outcome of the photograph:
We have different eyes now, eyes casting round
For the nearest reflective surface.
There are horrible opinions everywhere:
Like oil slicks. They must be kept indoors,
These children – he prepares for each of them
A pair of slippers and a dressing gown.
© 2007, Luke Kennard
From: The Harbour Beyond the Movie
Publisher: Salt Publishing, Cambridge
From: The Harbour Beyond the Movie
Publisher: Salt Publishing, Cambridge
Luke Kennard
(United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, 1981)
In 2007 Luke Kennard became the youngest ever poet to be shortlisted for the Forward Prize for Best Collection with The Harbour Beyond the Movie. At the time he was reported to have said “I’m on the shortlist with people I studied at A-level” (The Observer, 2007). His first collection, The Solex Brothers (Stride Books), was published in 2005, the same year he received an Eric Gregory Award from...
Poems
Poems of Luke Kennard
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HALÁTNOST
He sleeps! He sleeps! A whisper passes round;His orchestra is tiptoeing away
From the four-poster bed in which he lies
When someone knocks a cello through a bank
Of clarinets; wearily the players
Return to their sheet-music; this will be
Another long night in his company.
It could be dawn before they stumble through
The wild gardens of this ancient house
Where he, behind a leafy window sets
Upon his education – like a cat
Preserved in amber in an attitude
Of fury. To be seen to learn’s enough,
He told his henchman in a rare display
Of trust (betrayed – the henchman told the cook).
Tomorrow he will reference his paper
On characters crushed by falling pianos
In tragedy or comedy – but now
He cannot sleep; he is sick with worry:
For what if he is evil, after all?
What if this insubstantial kindness is
Another weapon? His brow creases up.
A piano hitched to the ceiling creaks;
The strands of twine will snap in perfect fifths
Before it falls – Oh, let it fall on me.
A dead aunt from a war-torn city sends
Three children – who arrive next morning, with a note
Of introduction; two boys and a girl.
Something in their expressions is askew –
Like people in Nineteenth Century scenes
Who did not imagine their faces would
Affect the outcome of the photograph:
We have different eyes now, eyes casting round
For the nearest reflective surface.
There are horrible opinions everywhere:
Like oil slicks. They must be kept indoors,
These children – he prepares for each of them
A pair of slippers and a dressing gown.
From: The Harbour Beyond the Movie
HALÁTNOST
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