Prayer by Claire Askew

September 8, 2013
By

By Claire Askew

for Steve

I almost can’t
help it.
Sometimes
it just comes
fizzing
up through me –
the white noise
of lightning
rattling the radio tower –
the need to stand
in a silent room
a mile away
from logic
or earshot
and just
say
thank you.

Or sorry.
Or help me out
here.  Or
I am a seed-blown
cinder path
behind a locked gate I am
so lonely.
Or no,
no more now
please,
enough.

Sometimes,
the big, slick bug
of a plane
in the sky
is just
an omen.
Sometimes
I’m just scared
to the teeth
that every single heart
I love
will someday die.

Including yours –
especially yours –
you,
who’d smile,
look me square
in the eye,
tell me this
is all one
big
fat
comforting
elaborate
lie.

_________________________________________________________

Claire AskewClaire Askew’s poetry has appeared in numerous publications, including The Guardian, The Edinburgh Review, Poetry Scotland, and PANK. In 2012, she was awarded a Scottish Book Trust New Writers Award, won the Mookychick Feminist Flash Contest, and was awarded the inaugural International Salt Prize for Poetry. Claire works as a community educator with women and young people, and she is close to completing a PhD in Creative Writing and Contemporary Women’s Poetry at the University of Edinburgh.

Tags: , ,

Comments are closed.

Follow The Feminist Wire

Arts & Culture

  • Poem Suite: Becoming DSC_0377

    In our Poem Suites, we bring together the voices of emerging and established poets exploring a common theme. In today’s Poem Suite, two poets explore processes of change, motion, and becoming from feminist perspectives.        From “Lesion” By Indrani Sengupta   thereafter   overgrown freckle. overzealous lovemark not [...]

  • Poems by Lisa Ciccarello bio pic fw

    from & if I die, make me how you are     It is the sister inside him that makes him slow.   She writes the psalm he tries to hold her back.   The blade is a proposal: how I stayed inside my sister’s voice.  . . . . [...]

  • Two Poems by Tsitsi Jaji tumblr_m0jjzqsYiq1qbh27fo1_500

    By Tsitsi Jaji   Pause. (For All the Madibas)*   There is a breath before the pendulum rends its center, A breath before what leapt comes back to its ground.     There, men and women in chains broke rock, forcing it to deliver         .   [...]