March 2021
Bio Note: I have been writing poems as long as I can remember. Being a German-born British national
who lives in Peru it goes without saying that my first poems were in German. Mostly they rhymed. And they were political.
I was keen to follow in the footsteps of Tucholski, Kästner, Roth et al. Two novels and three poetry collections later,
Chaffinch Press in Ireland published my latest poetry collection The Rain Girl (in English, of course) during COVID time.
Clarissa On the Roof
Clarissa on the roof
holds on to the lightning rod.
People take her in their stride.
After all, the villagers have seen it coming.
“It started when her mum
locked herself in
and painted tsunamis.”
“Yeah, and then her dad
built a boat in the living room.”
“They had to take out the wall
to move it!”
Clarissa above the flood waters
waits to be picked up.
COVID Nights
A prisoner of politics and communal fears. Locked up.
My guilt is age. Not just a misdemeanor, almost a crime.
My country—as almost every other one—is trying
to flatten a curve which remains beautifully rounded.
Going up perhaps, but it’s hard to tell in a developing
world with rampant corruption, bad maths, ignorance.
After months of involuntary incarceration
I am becoming hollow. My nights fill with unattainable
freedom, squeals of happiness, my grandchildren
in summer-blue waters, exotic flowers and the greens
of a world I left behind. London, Hampstead, Lady’s Pond.
Closing my eyes, night welcomes me. My thoughts
spin with the stars who would be my companions.
Like in the castle of ‘Sleeping Beauty’, exotic briars
wind themselves around my dreams until I become
transparent. Do I exist because you can see me?
or do I exist because I dream you?
©2021 Rose Mary Boehm
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