Jemma Walsh

THE scream

after Lisa Dwan’s mouth

Mine is not a once oval cinched
to a violin eight, nor some wail,
shrill, pitch pierce Medea mania
or a shriek in throttled chaos. No.
It’s not the keening siren of vengeance
or sacrifice rope-tied to a scrag of rock
(half-moon toes twitching to the tune).
No wind instrument, either
or trill boring along fluted tube
nor is it heard by dint of its absence
or gleaned from barely there whispers
(that old get out). No.

Mine is a horse. A bay, at sea
gunning for shore, to land.
Its reddish slicked coat steaming,
its pure vow bears breadth, is buoyed
on a wave gathering brink.
Its blue-black mane a flutter-strung kite
flag-trails echoes on bouts of wind
and distant specks of detail ships
may sink or not, it makes no odds,
she hell-bents on, raising dark and dogged
points, assured hooves — Chop darling.
Chop! Churn spume to sparkles.

slow time

if you want
slow time
take the train
to Farringdon

there place
a bucket of water
at the base
of a concrete step

and wet
your soles
by dipping
their surface

into the water
then walk
up the step
just so, so, so, so, so, so, so

when the prints
fade, dry, go
back down,
redip

Jemma Walsh is an Irish poet based in London. Her work has appeared in The Irish Times, Moth Magazine, HOWL Magazine, Berlin Lit,  Ink, Sweat & Tears, Crossways Literary Magazine and elsewhere. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize.

Jemma wrote the following about her poems:

The Scream

I wrote this poem after hearing an interview with the actor Lisa Dwan about a reworking of Antigone she was involved in. The poem presents an alternative to narratives in which a female scream, in particular, is often consigned to the realm of mania which diminishes its validity. The poem’s scream, embodied by the image of the horse, is decidedly channelled but not contained. It is fully aware of its own momentum, inevitability and legitimacy.

slow time

This poem is a gently sloping Sisyphean take on the current preoccupation with slowing down and living in the moment. The drip form with its short lines is intended to slow the pace of the reading which is further slowed by the line repeating so, so, so… I enjoy the idea that there’s only one step involved in this ritual.