Underwater

Beyond the French windows
it’s like the bottom of the sea
with green fronds swaying,
seeds and insects floating past
on mysterious currents.
Next door’s hatchback
lurks subtle as a submarine,
clouds swirl like water disturbed.
You expect to see a shark
but it’s just the minnows
of the air, strangely quiet.

Shoals of pigeon, scavenging
squirrels with their floating fur,
the bleached bones
of scuppered deckchairs lurch
at unlikely angles, alongside
the creaking hull of a rusted wheelbarrow.
Whiskered catfish, camoflauged
amongst shed roof barnacles,
observe a whirlpool in the fernery,
and the ground falling away
beyond the reef of patio
into a fathomless green.

© Clare Kirwan

Britons clean up after flood chaos

Clare Kirwan is co-founder of Poetry24, blogs as Broken Biro and tweets a bit. She also writes fiction and her first play 'Enola Gay' premiered in Wirral, July 2012.

To the Weather Gods

Now I know in days gone by there were festivals of pop
Mainly one on th' Isle o Wight three days music non stop
Then Reading came, and followed by Leeds.
The point is you God's of precipitation, you knew
That a drop or two would not dampen our enthusiasm
Or stop our earthly din
Nor did you stop raining on our parade of  intense music
Or should that be in tents (lol)
But as we increased the number of our music fests
Leaving not one weekend really free from play
We did not expect you to do the same with rain.
You jest with our politicians too when they
Appoint a minister for drought or
Locally proclaim a hosepipe ban
Are you havin a larf!
Can we agree to reduce our festivals
Close Wimbledon, stop harvests,
And dare we say postpone Olympic feats.
I think not. We are at your mercy
You Cumulo, you Nimbus, Pack it in
Or we'll start burning that black stuff and then
You see how hot and acidic our anger burns!

© Mike Richardson

Rain causes gridlock at Isle of Wight festival

Mike lived in Pembrokeshire. After University in West Wales, he left for City Life. He still hankers after the country that has inspired his writing.

Floods

Leri, Ceulan,
Ystwyth, Rheidol
Names of rivers
From a Welsh youth
Always present
Flowing quietly
Under bridges
Beside the roads
Around villages
Watering fields
Until reaching
An unconcerned
But grumbling sea


Peaceful waters
Haunt of salmon
Trout and sewin
Crossed by bridges
Kept in check by
Damns and culverts
Almost ignored
Rarely taken
Seriously
Until today
Provoked by rain
Crushed by high tide
Overflowing


High with anger
Patience snapping
Swollen torrents
Bursting barriers
Flooding places
Where no building
Should ever stand
Wreaking havoc
Devastation
Rebellion
Against a tide
Of oppression
Rising as only
Welsh rivers can.

© David Subacchi

Wales flooding: Victims hoping for return to homes

David Subacchi’s first English language collection ‘First Cut’ was published by Cestrian Press last month. He is a regular contributor to ‘Poetry 24’.