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Harold Jones is a New Zealander, educated at Cambridge University, where he was awarded an Exhibition to read English. His poetry has been widely published in UK and NZ literary journals. He has been a prize-winner in national UK and NZ poetry competitions, and, as a lyricist, in the UK Songwriting Contest, the largest such event in the world. A selection of his work in AUP New Poets Four (Auckland University Press, 2011), drew the UK review, “this excellent poet, a kind of Ted Hughes crossed with Bukowski,” with a further selection, Curriculum Vitae (Xlibris, 2014), reviewed in NZ as “downright incredible.” His work has won the acclaim of pre-eminent critics and poets: among them, Al Alvarez, “I like the elegance and control, the drive to say something rather than just to cut a fashionable figure," and Ted Hughes, “I hear a real voice, a real movement of mind cutting through resistances.” In the US his poems appear in Merion West and VoegelinView.

1564

It has no meaning in itself, but may offer one: To the incidence that Shakespeare was born In the year Michelangelo died, it’s fair to say “So…

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Spring Rain

A fine light moisture drifts to earth In natural silence - it has nothing To say, no endowment of, nor cause For voice - it is, and…

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Footwear: A Poem

I know I don’t need another pair of shoes, But they, I see – although second-hand – Are finely made - to my mind, beautiful: The standard…

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Behind the Wheel

1 There is no going back: the lights change At life, and there is one direction driven - Whatever detour, visit, we might arrange From that beginning,…

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The Window

The glass in a neighbouring window – The edges of its sharp rectangle At moments screened and disclosed By the restless black silhouettes Of leaves, branches, in…

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Poetry and the Self

The notion of self is vitally central to conceptions of poetry. Poems are commonly described as self-expression — an expression of feeling (being an energy inherent to…

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Out of the Dark

1 In the hours of darkness, in the long Emptiness of night, I see you most: Then your being rests next to me, Unencumbered by bodily weight,…

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Rural Requiem

For Margaret Eddowes Now’s the time to set sorrow to a song, While all the days of summer start, And renew the duties that belong To feeling,…

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A Blackbird Feeding

Homage à Guillaume Apollinaire A busy female blackbird of the colour Of the piled dry grass clippings She stands in and flings aside, Appears to find in…

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The Journey

This man wants you to worship, Through him, a merciful God. He’s dressed For the part. You wouldn’t choose this outfit For an ordinary day’s work. I…

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Deus ex Machina

1. Trash The traffic tears down this small hill - Two lanes turning right at the lights, And an occasional race or contest As they merge heading…

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