Poem introduction

This is a short poem based on a kind of reverent greed. The poem is called Honeycomb.

Honeycomb

It is too beautiful to eat.
Knife crumbles it from gold to dark.
Our keenest edge cannot stay sharp
while in our walls, which seemed so strong,
damp murmurs with the evening sleet.
I wonder if I live too long

but then I taste the honeycomb,
its waxen white upon my teeth,
its liquid sun which hides beneath.
Small deities, of wind or moon,
behold me.  In my shabby room
I am a god.  I lick the spoon.

 


unpublished poem, © Alison Brackenbury 2013, used by permission of the author

Recordings

Alison Brackenbury Reading from her Poems

1Honeycomb

2Lapwings

3On The Aerial

4At The Beginning

5Provision

6After the X-ray

7At Eighty

8Dickens - A Daydream

9In The Black Country

10Overnight

11No

12Rented Rooms

13The Beanfields Scent

14Linum

15The Spring at Chedworth

16Edward Thomas’ Daughter

17Xerxes, an Opera

18Yesterday Vivaldi visited me, and sold me some very expensive concerto’s

19Prepositions

20Display

21After Beethoven

22Puff

23Epigrams

24The Nymph Considers the Garden

25The Trent Rises, 1947

26Bookkeeping

27On the Move

28Money

29The House

30Apple Country

31Robert Brackenbury

32High Notes

33Hill Mist

34Three

35Christmas Roses

36December 25th, 12 noon

37Bath Cubes

38The Blue Door

39At Needlehole

40Tewkesbury

41Flood

42Scraper

43Wilfred Owen at the Advanced Horse Transport Depot, 1917

44On The Boards

Books & cds by Alison Brackenbury