the poetry that matters

Graham Hardie

Graham Hardie lives near Glasgow, Scotland. His poetry has been published in Agenda, Shearsman, The Interpreter's House, Gutter, The New Writer, Markings, Cutting Teeth, Nomad, The David Jones Journal, Cake and online at nth position.


the gypsy woman climbed,
a black yew tree and shouted
at the peasants:
"You are the sons of an incestuous union!"
and she tore her shirt
bearing her breast to the sky,
and they came with their sickles
and cut her down,
and her blood stained the Spanish ground.

the gypsy poured oil
on the body of Emily to cremate
her memory--
then he wept and screamed:
"the end of love!"
and the black crows
amongst the sullen clouds
above Cadiz wept with him;
and he covered her licentious

body in a blanket of fire,
burning his hands,
as he touched her face
for the last time.
the gypsy of San Pedro

the gypsy of San Pedro ate the sun
and kept it down in his soul,
so the light would permeate through
the orange groves of madness,
to which he belonged.

love is guided
through the morass

of pictures:images of faces;
lips; hair; eyebrows; legs
and thighs. love is a maze

dedicated to the body.

the harlot's face
the gypsy carried the lantern
above the harlot's face,
and the gypsy kissed her amongst
the olive groves of Malaga,
and Oana lifted her skirt, so
the gypsy would pay for his soul
in the dry and barren lands
above the village of Mijas;
while Oana would receive his hands
in gold, and hear the cock crow,
when Oana's deed was done:
to bear the gypsy's only son.



                                                                                                            January 14, 2014