Monday, 10 December 2018

A poem by Liv Chapman

What To Expect


Over there
A black hand just out of reach, behind the curtain
Our daughter insisting it’s a monster
You, insisting it’s a shadow of the jasmine
That creeps lovingly around the door
I’m insisting...who knows?
A pitch for ambiguity.
Mischief.
A love of disquiet.

True, it looks like jasmine
But see how wiry, and suspect
It is, how it moves to and fro
(Blown about by
The wind, you tut)
Unsure of what it is, or where to go.

My daughter curls up in bed
Satisfied with your response
Perturbed by mine
Her body a knot, casually tied.
It’s important to know things at five you, the book,
Says. The difference between what is real, what is dead
What is fake, what’s alive.
You can’t go around making things up about
Shadows being real.
Do you want her to have nightmares?
Do you want her to expect the worst?

Of course not, I say. I just want to make a
Pitch for ambiguity.
The love of disquiet.
Mischief.
Stories with no ending, no beginning, no
Meaning that is taught, only felt,
The way a Shakespeare sonnet skirts
Thinking to ring deep down in the bones
Where nothing and everything hurts.












About Liv Chapman
I live in the U.S now but am originally from York, U.K. I earned my PhD in Art History there, and moved to the U.S. to get married. I now have a beautiful daughter, Arrietty, to whom ALL my poems are dedicated! Until recently I was a school administrator (having been an English teacher for some years) but I'm currently on disability due to chronic pain. Despite the pain, I still love warm fall mornings, coffee, reading, and writing, writing, writing.




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