Poetry of Geoffrey Heptonstall
After what he counts as “a good year, in terms of publication”, Geoffrey Heptonstall, based in Cambridge, England has shared some of his poetry with us. The year’s harvest included his fourth collection of poetry, A Whispering (Cyberwit.net) and a novella, The Queen of Alsatia (Pennsylvania Literary Journal).
Geoffrey was raised in (old) York and studied drama at Bath Spa University (which isn’t redundant). Neither place not study dictate style, but you may find something delightfully theatrical and classically elegant about Geoffrey’s verse, while also acknowledging his admiration for Lawrence Ferlinghetti and John Berryman.
From The Whispering
WHEN I FELL
When I fell for her we began to travel.
Life became a pattern of departures
to read of Icarus and to reach the sun.
Sharing our world is a way of writing
postcards to the past, each one saying Yes.
that sets the world inflight.
My bride adorned rests
with eyes of many cities.
There are continents to cross,
We open those hidden doors
where the waters are timelessly flowing.
Age-old oxen plough in dreamtime.
The air itself is music
When I fell for her there was no motion to compare.
The earth was weightless, the moon a madman’s lantern.
Every thought a perfect word.
She shakes her hair, and a diamond falls.
The leaves of spring attend her.
Summer lingers into a temperate time.
Consider how the seasons become her
-
Note: The poem following is based on Dan Leno, a leading English music hall comedian and musical theatre actor during the late Victorian era. On Broadway, he was billed as “The Funniest Man on Earth” and was reported as “probably the highest paid funny man in the world”. Leno thrilled and amused audiences with outrageous skits with costume and character roles changing. He inspired many performers who followed him, especially Charlie Chaplin. Sadly, Leno was committed to a London “Lunatic Asylum” and died soon after. His autobiography, “Dan Leno Hys Boke”, is a masterpiece of comic writing.
A VAUDEVILLE SPIRIT
What ghost am I in the glass
when all I leave is my name?
A life in limelight,
a death in the wings,
the world is mad in my mind.
This has been my inspiration.
A million farthings delight the
crowd that sees a painted goose of a man.
So they may sing of champagne,
though laughter soon ends as dust.
I catch the applause with my silk hat
held in hands that have shaken princes’.
A cat may look at a quean,
and I admire the eyes of a lady
when from the gods I fly down,
feather light and eager to please.
No audience is ever the same
as the one I remember.
–
THE BIRDS
Subtle in his strangeness,
he knew about narrative,
and he knew about the dark.
His birds begin as shadows,
intimations of the unknown.
The silence is tangible.
Then the staccato sound.
When nature takes vengeance
there is no more melody.
The fat man’s secret:
we wish, we fear, we love
while the birds wait.
They are our end.
Hitchcock takes flight.
Available from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or the publishers Cyberwit.net in India. http://www.cyberwit.net
“His poems reference classical literature, classical music and art. They show the writer is aware of the craft of language, sound and rhythms.” Emma Lee in the Blue Nib.
“Exceptional poetic capability.” Alan Morrison in the Recusant.
Author note: “Opening a book I found a note, a quotation from The Duchess of Malfi. The dead author of the book had written it himself. It felt like a whispering from another, unearthly realm. It began a long trail through the wilds of nature, the meaning of faith, and through various places, through memories, acts of homage and acts of love.”