Author Archives: Nicholas Power

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About Nicholas Power

The poetry of Nicholas Power and his reviews of singular poems in a sequence titled Cadence.

acoustics

they’re playing the outside of the inside of their instruments new found objects of pulse and percussion vibrations listening to vibrations symbols of cymbals everything unsteady uncertain about to become something else drums wandering in from another modality letting the … Continue reading

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fresco

all my thoughts shone in sunlight while the wind blew all doubts away I found colour in what was black and white and made fresh-cut grass into a bouquet trees whispered hope from bluest skies while cats looked into my … Continue reading

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An Orchestra of Frogs

invisible in the grasses growing long in the neighbour’s front yard what my son called – finding his own way into the story – an orchestra of frogs waits for us around the corner our arrival galvanizes their song if … Continue reading

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Willows

for E.B. you might mistake these willows for dancers their hips bent provocatively into the tall grass enjoying their own voluptuous shapes floating on the lively surface of the stream this grove of willows turns in on itself like a … Continue reading

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clothesline

patches of linen moving like joyful empty canvases across the well-ordered sombre landscape barely claimed by fences and solitary houses the strongest force unseen briskly lifting the edges of the familiar for Madeline Power (1922-2007)

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a modest device

Imagine a man standing in the frame of a doorway looking out from his well-lit kitchen into the dark yard beyond where summer is still emerging from the mud Imagine the bare branches of a large tree stretched across the … Continue reading

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September Meditation

September Meditation for James Fitzgerald coming up from Davenport Road seeing the surface of the pond at surface level cross-ripples shimmering motion radiating everywhere the pond’s seeming stillness holds the reflection of trees and sky then breaks into pixillated images … Continue reading

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writing on water

don’t rewrite old poems you’ve already shed that skin what do you want now history or hysterics? no retreat no surrender Nicholas Power

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