Three Poems


Jon Kemsley





road sense

is knowing how

to map a route in real time

these are the parameters
the very small and the very far away

gears biting you drop the brake
star struck, sparked into life

white hot flashes at the horizon

splitting out like cells

station follows station
in finding one thing you lose another


dropped back, dashed off

dead words raised contrast high

slow hands as you pull ahead
object lesson in relative velocity

parallels in sharp convergence

every junction like the last









so seeking



and polite



where just before

now vacant


hand to mouth

thus blessed


cloth snags

stifled breath



surface tension


one who was

hesitates then

reaches out


in stillness

skin shook free

settles briefly


pinpoint prickle

pores opened


eyes wide


even lips


edged in light

hands together


guided so









we meet so rarely these days

and under such few illusions


for that which brings you closer

then carries me off immediately


from somewhere near the top

of the world or so you tell me


almost nothing and if you wear

your hair up or down (or down


is best) you are almost always

several silent floors above me









Jon Kemsley has been published in the Fiction Pool, New World Writing, New Reader Magazine, Ellipsis, Neon and others.  He lives and works on the south coast of England, listens to old jazz records and occasionally remembers to call his brother about whatever it was he promised to do the last time. 



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