Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dorothy Porter

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD

It was one of those  
beautiful
English summer nights
when levitating
on the moonshine
of a moonlit  world
was your entranced lucky
fate.

The lilac shimmer of silent
lakes.
The whisper of ghost fox
through your heartbeat.

But the toad in the hand
stank real.

Stank through his palpitating
skin.
Stank of  fear.


Is the fabled hallucinogenic
touch of toads
just as Macbeth
witnessed
a  hypnotising snare
of toxic apparition?

What thrilling doors of perception
open
to the musky ooze
of panting paralysed
terror?

Of course
on that silky intoxicating
night
you wanted
and will always want
the toad
to calm down
smell sweet
and give up his phantasmagorical
secrets
generously.

But the toad in the hand
protected himself.

The toad in the hand
stank real.
Close

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD

It was one of those  
beautiful
English summer nights
when levitating
on the moonshine
of a moonlit  world
was your entranced lucky
fate.

The lilac shimmer of silent
lakes.
The whisper of ghost fox
through your heartbeat.

But the toad in the hand
stank real.

Stank through his palpitating
skin.
Stank of  fear.


Is the fabled hallucinogenic
touch of toads
just as Macbeth
witnessed
a  hypnotising snare
of toxic apparition?

What thrilling doors of perception
open
to the musky ooze
of panting paralysed
terror?

Of course
on that silky intoxicating
night
you wanted
and will always want
the toad
to calm down
smell sweet
and give up his phantasmagorical
secrets
generously.

But the toad in the hand
protected himself.

The toad in the hand
stank real.

THE HAMPSTEAD HEATH TOAD

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère