Stephen Symons is a former lecturer, graphic designer and poet. His poetry has been published in journals (including: New Contrast, Carapace, New Coin, Prufrock, Aerodrome, Umlanga ) and various anthologies. He holds a Masters in Creative Writing from UCT and is currently busy with a PhD in African Studies. He lives in Oranjezicht with his wife and two children.
Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry
Biography
Imagining snow & Boyes Drive
IMAGINING SNOW —
its weightlessness and texture
from behind a misted car window
rubbing my breath from the glass
to reveal the mountain
whitewashed and grazed with cold
I have always watched its work at a distance
the way the presence of snow
awakens the memory of a broken bone
sharpens the edges of leaves
and hardens the bark of trees
against axes and nails
The way it exists
so delicately between states
like water dreaming
Yet I have never wrapped reality around the word — s n o w
and cupped it in my hand like a butterfly
before it awakens and turns to liquid..
BOYES DRIVE
I rub away the splashes of salt
that have tightened the skin
on your shoulders
Your smile
looks out towards the bay
where a trimmed fingernail of moon
teeters on the fog
At last
a sea breeze releases the heat
from the throats of the sandstone boulders
behind us
Below
spades have stopped skidding over the gravel
And that fucking lawnmower is done
with the grass.
Stephen Symons
Featured Poem:
Far Below
I knew a man who slipped
off the edge of a mountain and slid
from his camping chair
and its crisp view into space
In that manic fraction I imagined his life
uncoupling from the disbelief
of a single misplaced step on iced snow
and how within seconds
his flailing form had already
resigned itself to calm
and floated for an instant in
green birdsong before the shadows
accelerated to gather him up far below
Onlookers came to view his slippage
over the flashed whiteness
before the heat softened
his terror to liquid
And some ventured
perilously close to the precipice
hoping to catch a glimpse of
his illegible form
stretched over the sharp black rocks
far below.
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Biography
Stephen Symons
Biography
Stephen Symons is a former lecturer, graphic designer and poet. His poetry has been published in journals (including: New Contrast, Carapace, New Coin, Prufrock, Aerodrome, Umlanga ) and various anthologies. He holds a Masters in Creative Writing from UCT and is currently busy with a PhD in African Studies. He lives in Oranjezicht with his wife and two children.
Imagining snow & Boyes Drive
IMAGINING SNOW —
its weightlessness and texture
from behind a misted car window
rubbing my breath from the glass
to reveal the mountain
whitewashed and grazed with cold
I have always watched its work at a distance
the way the presence of snow
awakens the memory of a broken bone
sharpens the edges of leaves
and hardens the bark of trees
against axes and nails
The way it exists
so delicately between states
like water dreaming
Yet I have never wrapped reality around the word — s n o w
and cupped it in my hand like a butterfly
before it awakens and turns to liquid..
BOYES DRIVE
I rub away the splashes of salt
that have tightened the skin
on your shoulders
Your smile
looks out towards the bay
where a trimmed fingernail of moon
teeters on the fog
At last
a sea breeze releases the heat
from the throats of the sandstone boulders
behind us
Below
spades have stopped skidding over the gravel
And that fucking lawnmower is done
with the grass.
Featured Poem:
Far Below
I knew a man who slipped
off the edge of a mountain and slid
from his camping chair
and its crisp view into space
In that manic fraction I imagined his life
uncoupling from the disbelief
of a single misplaced step on iced snow
and how within seconds
his flailing form had already
resigned itself to calm
and floated for an instant in
green birdsong before the shadows
accelerated to gather him up far below
Onlookers came to view his slippage
over the flashed whiteness
before the heat softened
his terror to liquid
And some ventured
perilously close to the precipice
hoping to catch a glimpse of
his illegible form
stretched over the sharp black rocks
far below.
Imagining snow & Boyes Drive
IMAGINING SNOW —
its weightlessness and texture
from behind a misted car window
rubbing my breath from the glass
to reveal the mountain
whitewashed and grazed with cold
I have always watched its work at a distance
the way the presence of snow
awakens the memory of a broken bone
sharpens the edges of leaves
and hardens the bark of trees
against axes and nails
The way it exists
so delicately between states
like water dreaming
Yet I have never wrapped reality around the word — s n o w
and cupped it in my hand like a butterfly
before it awakens and turns to liquid..
BOYES DRIVE
I rub away the splashes of salt
that have tightened the skin
on your shoulders
Your smile
looks out towards the bay
where a trimmed fingernail of moon
teeters on the fog
At last
a sea breeze releases the heat
from the throats of the sandstone boulders
behind us
Below
spades have stopped skidding over the gravel
And that fucking lawnmower is done
with the grass.
B rillant