Tuesday, 29 March 2016

A poem by Maria Isakova Bennett

The Malin Jug


pitted inside, scarred, two leaf stains,
a scroll of copper flowers;
its dulled note, pouting lip,
and handle that can’t be grasped, just held,
a body –
marbled with hairline cracks
you want to touch –
 is a white form for white flowers

and a reminder of a cut glass vase with plastic dahlias
before the Holy Mary Mother of God statue
on the mantelpiece at home;
of the fire screen                                
shielding the rarely lit fire; of the way light rolled in
through your bedroom –
the surprise of walking barefoot
finding the lino warm, testing patch after patch
saying, I will remember this.


'The Malin Jug' was first published in The Interpreter's House (2015)


Maria lives in Liverpool where she teaches, works for a number of charities, and collaborates with poet Michael Brown reading and running workshops in art galleries on Merseyside. In the past two years Maria has had poetry and reviews published in the UK, Ireland, and the U.S. Including poetry in Antiphon, Envoi, Crannóg, Manchester Review, Prole, The Interpreter’s House, Southword, and in Anthologies by Cinnamon Press.

Her first pamphlet, Caveat, was published by Poetry Bus Press last year.

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