Shut up Here in This Caved Trunk of a Room, On the  Massachusetts Side of a Loose-Fish Land We Call America — and Feeling All at Sea In a...

By Richard Carl Mather Yesterday, before the snow, three old horses munched wet grass as I walked through the relics of an abandoned...

By Richard Carl Mather The moon appeared to float on a skein of black water and a wind sang a high pitch B, 246.94 Hertz. And...

By Richard Carl Mather To live this hour beneath a cold Pennines sun requires the dead hills to flow behind us. To see the mighty crow...

The North Is by Richard Carl Mather Rain strikes terraces stacked in brown brick   And wind blows through the underpass.     Two...

By Richard Carl Mather Confronting the Dead  – 26th March 2025    So, descend the steep hill   Slowly, go on   Go past the lunch cart  ...

By Richard Carl Mather Friends meet up round a pub table, sip drinks from tall glasses, exchange work and family news, complain about...

By Richard Carl Mather Over Lytham St Annes, Liverpool and Leeds, Manchester too, there's a full moon in white light suspended ...

Lancaster bleached by rain – a wet wind blows through a line of washing. Fog frost, petrol odour, urban towertops vanish in the aerial grey

A mallard stops, strums His feathers, beats his wings, Ready to fly over this stretch Of blue-lined water

By Richard Mather (Inspired, in part, by John Milton’s Paradise Lost , Book 5: 108-113) Tonight I am not in my right mind. It was the...

By Richard Mather “Stuck in this uneasy station, what else To do but to let these words I write (Knowing that you, Son of God, Will never...

By Richard Mather       Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain   You must wait for courage or grace but fate Is stubborn. Waiting is very...

By Richard Mather Simulacra peel Continually from the body’s Surface, each image Bearing the appearance of the Part it belongs to. A...

By Richard Mather Everything is made of light. Everything is light, of differing gradations and qualities, from the big bang to the...

Without division or interval, the body appears as pure form over content, surface without depth.

Expecting nothing but laughter and applause, Adam hears on all sides sounds of derision, Harshly sibilant. All were transformed to serpents

Words like mosquitoes swarming / Around me, pestering

What is language? Where does it come from and what does it want (from us)?

By Richard Mather No, I don’t wish to talk about money. In no way does it interest me. I seek an infinite leap beyond money. Even with my...