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Cables by Kate Charles

In 100 Poems, poetry on February 15, 2009 at 5:06 pm

Title: 100
Author: Kate Charles
Number: 78/100
Allocated postcode: EH4

Cables

Edinburgh cuts a high moon
Hunkered figures, hands expectant, ask
For reasoning, dulled or blank to your rising rage,
some long gone time come close.

Our parting had been frenzied, something terrible,
Staining yells screamed across the still bridge
Yet there,
suspended,
I didn’t care for peace.

The fair’s tight cables clang and whip across the links,
Through the screwed hooks;
And above us, the whirling faces, soaring,
Beside the city’s floodlit stone.

Which is rock,
Like your elbows, knuckles,
Bone,
Framings you’d smash apart
As if the place had encased you:

Pencil lines, ruled out, and pure, graphite, grey.

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  1. […] River At Cramond by Aileen Ballantyne No. 77: John Knox’s Grave by Aileen Ballantyne No. 78: Cables by Kate Charles No. 79: Mary King’s Close by Aileen Lobban No. 80: Edin Unfurling by Gemma White No. 81: The […]

  2. […] Cables by Kate Charles “Edinburgh cuts a high moon Hunkered figures, hands expectant, ask For reasoning, dulled or blank to your rising rage, some long gone time come close…” […]

  3. […] Cables by Kate Charles “Edinburgh cuts a high moon Hunkered figures, hands expectant, ask For reasoning, dulled or blank to your rising rage, some long gone time come close…” […]

  4. […] Bar – co-operative harmonies on tap and on form, new work based on Scottish poems they adapt Kate Charles’ Cables and the processes never end… who knows what else will […]

  5. […] Cables, the poem, was as city-specific piece set on North Bridge beside the Edinburgh Christmas Fair. The fair does more than make incandescent the sometimes bleak city, but literally turns it upside down through the inverting, upside down trajectories of the Fair’s rides. The poem is older and not one I’m especially fond of but the orchestration is magical. […]

  6. […] Cables by Kate Charles “Edinburgh cuts a high moon Hunkered figures, hands expectant, ask For reasoning, dulled or blank to your rising rage, some long gone time come close…” […]

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