Poems and Poetry

Alchemy | A Poem by Marie MacSweeney

In a scrunch of white sand we filter silica.

We tinder our hopeful fire into a scorching furnace,
scatter grains within its wayward flame.

You take a pipe, dip into the fever, pick up molten lovemusic for us.

You cool the singing notes on the cold marble I prepare.

They harden on the outside while the inside melts.

You blow the music outwards into a bubbling symphony.

Before you face fire again I ask if you’ll roll the new bubble
over my confetti of multi-coloured petals.
You turn away, saying you have no time for frit.

I attempt to spread blue, yellow and pink powders along your path.
You avoid them too, insisting you wish to make
something clean and clear, like starlight.

You sip the water I offer to slake your thirst.

You use a jack to shape our fused forms over a paddled base.

I ask if I can tweeze out the outline of your lips
but you place a diamond shears in my hand
so that I can fashion the plinth
while you pester our bubble
into the shape of us.

Later you transfer all to a cooler oven.

Tempered like that, our two selves will not crack.
We will step out into the world, splendid and sharp as obsidian.


Poems and Poetry is completely reader supported, please help me keep it going.

Have you read Guy Farmer's social justice poetry book now available on Amazon?

Read poems by Guy Farmer on this site.