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2 poems by Tim Liardet

The third law of motion

You have run a great distance //or a few strides //

such long // such elongated strides // they are

the steep descent // it lengthens // each stride just a little more //

the ground // equal and opposite // exerts the force //

You run // you barely land // to the sounds in the mics

of the grasses that are way up over your waist

while the haulms // calling you back // to world from this bliss

are lashing // lashing // lashing // at your calves //

The only thought you have is of what pounds harder

is it feet on ground // or ground on feet // and is the gas-

for-hoisted-sea that hovers in the heat ahead

dry ground warming // mirror //or the Sea of Galilee?


The drum-beats are dreamt by the hands

so large so very round they are as they rebound

The drum-beats are large rebounding things

so hard to catch so hard to hold they empty out

and at their times and speeds rebound and bounce

rebound and bounce rebound and bounce

The hands are hungry they long for expression

they long for suppleness and loose wrists

The hands are hungry and they long to play

they long to express they long to greet

they long to meet to go out and play

with the drum-beats no! no! says the brain


Twice shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot Prize, for The World Before Snow (Carcanet) and The

Blood Choir (Seren), Tim Liardet has produced eleven collections of poetry. Arcimboldo’s

Bulldog: New and Selected Poems appeared from Carcanet in 2018. He has recently

received an Authors’ Foundation work-in-progress award from the Society of Authors for his

twelfth collection Atlas, Tick, Hog and Gold, now nearing completion.


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