Geraldine Green’s first collection The Skin, was published in 2003. Her second collection, Passio, was published 2006, (both by Flarestack Publications).                                      

Her work has been published in the US, UK and Italy and she has read widely in these countries; currently undertaking a PhD (Creative Writing, Poetry) at Lancaster University, Geraldine is fresh from performing at the first International Women’s Arts Festival in the UK, with performers Patti Smith, Peggy Seeger and Janine Pommy Vega; in September 2007 she read at The Wordsworth Trust, Grasmere and in October 2007 she performed at venues in the NY area, including The Bowery Poetry Club, NYC. 

She runs writing workshops, teaches creative writing at both Lancaster and Cumbria Universities, is an Associate Editor of Poetry Bay www.poetrybay.com, (editor NY poet George Wallace), she lives in Cumbria, UK and is currently working on her third collection. She plans a return trip to the US in July where she’ll be reading at The Woody Guthrie Festival, Okemah, Oklahoma and various venues in the NY area.

TODAY I BECAME YOUR RAIN
 

    today i saw the world
        from inside     a forest
            saw its sap
                rising     and falling
                    up and down
                        and up 

         the spine of its trees

             today I fell asleep     drowning 
                    in the wind

            today i became your rain
                felt you in
                   your rain   on my skin 

    today I became your rain
            dropped     from the sky
                    fell     into your ocean
        i am your rain     cushioned between
                andromeda and orion

         today i am the forest growing
            today i am soft earth opening
                tomorrow we will wake
                     and   become spring.

THIS LAND  

this land is a bride
this land is made of clouds
this land is a train of silk and satin
coiled and uncoiled by some mad silkworm
that lives in a corner of the sky.
this beck is a trident
forking its way through glacial valleys
each flicker of water tumbles me
in the freshness of pilgrims
the swift movement of hands and eyes.
this is the gate by sheepdrowned meadow
this the path that takes you to bullbent lane
this is the hollow, the spring, the flower
this the lake where i learnt to swim. this
the child’s silver ring you found in the beck, the steps
up to the tree house, the road home, the smell
of sheep and peat and rain. this the stream
that talks to itself on the way to the sea.
here! let me show you the waterfall on the pass
that rises like smoke let me show you
the nests of birds, the stone
you found that i painted silver, warmed
between my breasts.
here’s the bench
incised by penknives
inscribed by lovers
by the fence that needs mending
here’s a land that hides itself in mist
that the wind parts like a man brushing aside
the veil of his lover’s hair.

                          all copyrights belong to Geraldine Green                    




At  La Luciole Magazine