the poetry that matters

Tim Kerton

Tim Kerton is a poet and short story writer from North London. He has spent time as a shipbuilder, tree surgeon, anthropologist, criminologist, motorcycle courier, radio controller, and carpenter. Tim maintains a blog at http://notallstories.com/

This Poem


Will knot, right?

Itself being less malleable

but nevertheless still pliable

in terms of magic.


Magical commands dress down

any common determination.

Determined, but why?

Less out of duty than desire.


For, nothing linear

will do. In terms of the

requested eternity.

We need our forever.


Knot it, bend it.

Never permit the lines form.

Our immortality depends

wholly on this rule.


Rules intended to

bend. Broken denies

the realisation. Of our

intended end.


Circles and knots.

We need our forever.

Our voices heard

the knotted word.





“You question my invincibility now?”

The door is ajar. Perhaps more.

After all this time.

Now she questions me.

“You made me believe. Now you doubt me?”

I slide the door closed.

The wind feels fresh.

Like ants. They are like ants.

The sobbing is a distraction.

I can't deny it.

Doubt has crept in now.

What has changed?

My faith was strong.

And now?

“Go on then. Do it if you're going to, you stupid bastard!”

More of a shriek than a shout.

Muffled through glass.

Still a shriek though.

This should be easy.

My feet look strange on the rail.

I was right.

I am right.

Not about the ants.

They are definitely not ants.

That becomes quite clear.



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                                                                                                       May 31, 2012