Reviews for Elmet

The average rating for Elmet based on 2 reviews is 4 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2020-12-22 00:00:00 Kasey McGarry High Sea-Light Pearl-robe Of earth's grit Heaven glows through Into the streams Into gulping mouths Into a world Of busy dark atoms Inside the live wreathed stone Of light worn warm by a wonder.

Review # 2 was written on 2016-12-15 00:00:00 Anthony Chung The upturned face of this land The mad singing of the hills The prophetic mouth of the rain That fell asleep Under migraine of headscarves the clatter Of clog-irons and looms And gutter-water and clog-irons And clog-irons and biblical texts Stretchs awake, out of Revelations And returns itself. Chapels, chimneys, vanish in the brightening And the hills walk out on the hills The rain talks to its gods The light, opening younger, fresher wings Holds this land up again like an offering Heavy with the dream of a people. - The Trance of Light, pg. 7 * * * It set out - Spleandour bursts against its brow Broke over its shoulders. The hills heeled, meeting the blast of space. The stone rigging was strong. Exhilarated men Cupped hands and shouted to each other And grew stronger riding the first winters. The great adventure had begun - Even the grass Agreed and came with them, And crops and cattle - No survivors. Here is the hulk, every rib shattered. A few crazed sheep Pulling its weeds On a shore of cloud. - Hill Walls, pg. 12 * * * Death-struggle of the glacier Enlarged the long gullet of Calder Down which its corpse vanished. Farms came, stony masticators Of generations that ate each other To nothing inside them. The sunk mill-towns were cemeteries Digesting utterly All with whom they swelled. Now, coil behind coil, A wind-parched ache, An absence, famished and staring, Admits tourists To pick among crumbling, loose molars And empty sockets. - Remains of Elmet, pg. 23 * * * - a frost-frail Amethyst. An iron earth sinking, Frozen in its wounds. A snipe Knowing it has to move fast Hurtles upwards and downwards Drumming in the high dark - witchdoctor Climbing and diving Drawing the new Needle of moon Down Gently Into its eggs. - Spring-Dusk, pg. 34 * * * Dripped a chill virulence Into my nape - Rubberised prison-wear of suppression! Guarding and guarded by The Council's black Forbidding forbidden stones. The policeman's protected leaf! Detestable evergreen sterility! Over dead acid gardens Where blue windows, shrined in Sunday, shrank To arthritic clockwork, Yapped like terriers and shook sticks from doorways Vast and black and proper as museums. Cenotaphs and the moor-silence! Rhododendrons and rain! It is all one. It is over. Evergloom of official tittivation - Uniform at the reservoir, and the chapel, And the graveyard park, Ugly as a brass-band in India. - Rhododendrons, pg. 47 * * * Infatuated stones. Hills seeming to strain And cry out In labour. Three weird sisters. Imbecile silence Of a stone god Cut into gravestones. The brother Who tasted the cauldron of thunder Electrocuted. A house Emptied and scarred black. In a land Emptied and scarred black. - Haworth Parsonage, pg. 54 * * * Wind slams across the tops The spray cuts upward. You claw your way Over a giant beating wing. And Thomas and Walter and Edith Are living fathers Esther and Sylvia Living feathers Where all the horizons lift wings A family of dark swans And go beating low through storm-silver Toward the Atlantic. - Heptonstall Cemetery, pg. 66