Sudden Summer / Happiness Beyond

Sudden Summer
(Not a Word Cloud)

Is this moon new or young,
a sliver or a crescent, silver
or golden in the deep blue,
the newly deep sky, is it
striking or dazzling or
mesmerising?

Is this a late spring, belated
and all the more welcome,
bursting with life, with green,
bright green, saturated
with rain and sunshine,
saturated with colour and
heat, heat unfamiliar and
all the more welcome, or is it
sudden summer?

Is this life at last, is this joy,
is this joy of life, is it zest,
is it just new life-force or is it
happiness or elation or
bliss?

Reality, as it laps up against
the shores of your eyes and 
your ears and your nose, reality
as it washes over the leas
of your skin and seeps
beneath, cannot be captured in
words, not even in verse: reality,
so dense it feels like a dream,
is not a dream cloud nor a
word cloud.

Although this poem would make
a good one, with the message of
sudden summer sounding out
like birdcall, flooded with light
and colour, steeped in joy,
as if words were written from life
and for life, as if words were part
of life, of the wide earth and
the deep sky and the reality
beyond, of the ever-flowing
life-force.

Christina Egan ©2024

Happiness Beyond
(Word Cloud)

Your life is a green reality,
it reads in large green letters,
and newly young;
the sky is golden at last,
it states in fine golden letters,
and saturated with joy;
eyes and ears are bursting
with wide bright light,
it adds in silvery white;
and at the edge there is
happiness beyond colour
on deep-blue ground.

These are welcome words,
sudden and possibly deep,
a mesmerising message
from slivers of verse in your ears,
from the new dream poem,
from the word cloud
of Sudden summer:
Your life is a green reality
saturated with joy
under the newly young moon.

Christina Egan ©2024

Inspired by the word cloud of the poem Sudden summer and written on the same day.

Showers (Haiku)

Showers

*

Snow

A thousand snow-flakes,
sent from the moon to the lake
like little kisses.

*

Rain

The rain is dancing
on the skylight through the night.
We are wrapped in sleep.

*

*

Christina Egan ©2002

Raindrops on window, with pink flowers showing in the lens of each drop.
Raindrops on window, with flowers showing in each drop.
Photograph by Kumiko Shimizu on Unsplash.


speaking through a mask / masked ball

The poem speaking through a mask was inspired by photographs in the Tottenham Community Press and published by the same newspaper in TCP Issue 43, February 2021. It continues as the Haringey Community Press.

Tottenham is full of art in in very bright colours: graffiti on walls, mosaics on houses, paintings on roll-shutters of shops…

Image: Red camera eye of HAL 9000 (from ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’).
Julian Mendez, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons.

Radiance (You did not see the star)

Dancing on the Beach

Dancing on the Beach

I woke up to a world
where the bears and the bees
had not cast their ballots
but the humans had:

a brave brand-new world
where an abundance
of guns guaranteed
safety and peace,

where an ample range
of promises rained down
on the fields like fertiliser,
tremendous and toxic,

and where the deceitful tongue
was spreading like the olive-tree
in the house of God,
laughing us to scorn.

I woke up to a crowd
dancing on the beach, drunk,
while the floods were gathering
from the heights and the horizon,

a world watching and filming
on ten thousand screens
its boats and its bridges
falling apart. I woke up.

Christina Egan ©2024

On Nov. 5th, 2024, it became evident that the great project of democracy
is about to destroy itself, taking the whole of our civilisation with it.

Die Spur des Mars / The Trace of Mars

Die Spur des Mars

Unbeirrbar rollt die Straße,
über Hügel, über Flüsse
schnurgerade hingebreitet
wie ein Strahl vom flammendroten
goldstückgroßen Himmelsboten:
Mars hat Rom hierhergeleitet.

Christina Egan ©2020

As ever, the first poem of the year admires the roads of the Romans. At Cassel in the north of France, you can see them radiate from a hill and run entirely straight, regardless of the landscape. They served very well to transport people, goods, and ideas, but were first of all laid to occupy and exploit regions. Mars in the poem above stands for war and aggression but also for courage and strength.

Silvester / It Is Harvest

Silvester

Wunderkerzen sprühen
und verglühen,
Sektbläschen blinken
und sinken…
und ein Gedanke blitzt auf!

Word cloud in warm colours; in the middle: "still", "rising", "faces", "leaves", "life".

Mit jedem Tag,
der dir entschwindet,
wirst du reicher
an Erlebnis,
an Erfahrung.

Mit jedem Jahr,
das dir verwelkt,
wächst du
an Geduld,
an Gelassenheit.

Christina Egan © 2013


It Is Harvest

Burning sparkler on black background, looking like a supernova!

So you thought life was past?
It has only begun.
For whatever you’ve lost
there is something you’ve won.
For whatever you’ve missed
there is something you’ve learned.
It is harvest: persist
and reap all that you earned.

Christina Egan ©2008

Photograph by Gabriel Pollard [CC BY-SA 2.5].
Featured picture on Wikimedia Commons.

Word cloud in warm colours; in the middle: "still", "rising", "faces", "leaves", "life".

glanztanzend / dazzle-dancing

A handful of hand-crafted Christmas cards in different styles and colours.
A handful of hand-crafted Christmas cards in different styles and colours.

The poem does what it describes: inventing words, lining them up, and sending them to others to greet them and cheer them up!

The newly coined terms had to be re-created in English – where they do of course not look as impressive. “lindwurmwörter”, for instance, really sounds and looks as long as a dragon, while “dragon’s tail words” looks like three words, even though I added the tail in to get a similar effect in meaning and length.

In England, many people hang Christmas cards up on golden strings. During the festive seasons of 2022/23 and 2023/24, I crafted many greeting cards myself, each of them unique.

Seasonal greeting cards. Artwork: Christina Egan ©2022/©2023/©2024. Photographs: Miriam Hornsby ©2024.

Shooting-stars (Damp Wood)

Shooting-stars

Damp wood, damp walls: the world smells of decay.
The scented roses are resurgent, yet
too many leaves are falling, fallen, wet
across the spotless lawn, the winding way.
Above Bruce Castle’s reddish parapet
and wayward weather-vane, the veil of grey
is torn apart to let a dazzling ray
caress the clock-face, still for summer set.
The light is fierce and will not be subdued,
the clock smiles sky-blue with a rim of gold,
the grass is glittering and fresh and bold,
and then the sky itself triumphs, renewed.
All this eclipsing, flash on flash, they pass:
the parakeets, a dozen shooting-stars.

Christina Egan ©2020

Turret painted in pink, with bright-blue clockface and golden weather-vane, under a blue sky.
Bruce Castle, Tottenham, England.
Photograph: Christina Egan ©2017.

This sonnet was read at an
event of Tottenham Trees
at Bruce Castle Museum
in November 2024, together
with Thought Bench and
Hollow Oak (Anglo-Saxon spell).

I Do Not Ask for Love / A Thousand Leaves

I Do Not Ask for Love

I do not ask for love,
for I have none to give –
and yet I beg for life,
for leave to make you live,

to live as if the day
were fitting like a glove,
to breathe as if to pray
to beauty were enough,

to tremble as if time
had finished or begun,
to let two faces shine
as if two hearts were one.

I do not ask for words
of last or lasting love,
I cannot offer worlds –
one kiss shall be enough.

Christina Egan ©2006


Maple leaf, close-up, flaming golden and orange against dull background.

A Thousand Leaves

A thousand leaves in brownish bronze,
a thousand leaves thrust by the wind,
a rustling sea… a jostling crowd…
And then, with sudden sunset glint,
with guileless smile, one reaches out.

Christina Egan ©2010