Superleggera

Posted in poetry with tags , , , on November 14, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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My love sets her jaw upon her anger 

Sits with her back towards the High street 

Collagen asymmetry, botox rictus 

Her cheek a chiaroscuro of hunger 

 

I sit opposite, without an answer 

Observed by the pitiless eye of my espresso 

Until the afternoon is torn in two

By raucous farting from a steely sphincter 

 

A demon-fish, regal, mauls the bitumen 

But not the crystal blankness of its eye 

Nor the callous forgery of its heart 

Hold any more room for love than friction 

 

My love, an orchid of licentious hunger 

Swoons toward the sound of summer thunder 

Faded Lovers, Arcane Gods

Posted in Love letters with tags , , , on October 17, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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An ex-girlfriend of mine turns 28 tomorrow. I have spent the last few weeks writing her a sonnet, to the surprise and consternation of the friends with whom I have discussed it. Continue reading

Your Voice is a Caress Most Definite

Posted in Love letters, poetry with tags , on October 3, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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Your voice is a caress most definite

On velvet footfalls your words descend

The vertiginous staircase within my head

To take up mysterious residence Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in poetry, Reading, Real Men, Uncategorized with tags , , on September 24, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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4.

‘Wrapping my coat around me like my own sweet shadow, I unscrewed the bottle of pills and began taking them swiftly, between gulps of water, one by one by one.

At first nothing happened, but as I approached the bottom of the bottle, red and blue lights began to flash before my eyes. The bottle slid from my fingers and I lay down.  

The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life. Then, at the rim of the vision, it gathered itself, and in one sweeping tide, rushed me to sleep.’

p.163 Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in Fiction, Reading, Real Men with tags , , on September 17, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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3.

“I thought I would swim out until I was too tired to swim back. As I paddled on, my heartbeat boomed like a dull motor in my ears. I am I am I am.

P. 152

I watched my grandmother Joanna die, day by day. Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in poetry, Reading, Real Men with tags , , , , , , on September 13, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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2.

“A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.”

– The Bell Jar Page 90.

Simone De Beauvoir writes in The Second Sex that because men are encouraged to fight, they come to trust themselves and their ability to grapple with the world and its challenges. Continue reading

Suicidal Thoughts

Posted in poetry, Reading, Real Men with tags , , , , on September 3, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

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1.

‘There’s two acts of creation at work in the novel: the writer’s, and the reader’s.’

– Rodney Hall.

Some books, you read them and they go right through you like a glass of water. Other books seem to take up residence and become a part of who you are, like marrow, or muscle fibre.

I recently read Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar for the second time.

Continue reading

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