Amanda Hodgson

We currently have ten poems by Amanda Hodgson. You can listen to them all one after the other using the playlist below or if you prefer you can click the links further down to read a specific poem whilst listening to it.

Copyright © Amanda Hodgson

Read and listen to Ballet Lesson

My girl dances with other small girls
Pastel flowers in their ballet clothes
Church halls never really change
The hand-written notices
The cups and plates all made
In a particular factory circa 1958
Cracked linoleum, hand towels
Decades of dust
The sound of a piano through
Thick wooden doors
The sound of a voice encouraging
Pointed toes, point them
Laughter like the peal of bells
On a frosty morning

Read and listen to Dreaming in Autumn

I woke up early and got up late
Remembering..we sat beside a fountain
Eating promises from a plate
The leaves lay on the water
Like a quilt made from the season
You were sleepy drunk and leant on me
I said what you wanted to hear
Which was what I meant
I never lie any more
I can meet my eyes in the mirror of the water
In the looking glass, the black screens, a spoon
I can hold up my tired head
You don’t need your props here
No drink, no cigarette, just us
Watching the mist
Stirring the water with leaves

Read and listen to Granny Iris

When I was young I looked up at you
My vision of comfort
Your headscarf atop stiff curls set weekly
bound by the ring beneath your chin
Perfume, a bag zipped and held tightly
in the crook of your arm.

My sister was born and daddy was ill
We went to the hospital on the bus
I watched your reflection in the window
Your profile next to the ripples of rain
Steam etched with swirls
Drawn by little fingers.

I held tight the arm without the bag
I knew you would protect me
If your love were a shield I would be unblemished
You left, your fall robbing us of goodbye
I named my daughter Iris, after you
She laughed today, I thought of you.

Read and listen to I Dream of a Tidal Wave

Rhizomes creak, I hear them
The creaks may be the back of Atlas
He’s feeling his eternity, the world has driven him down
Always a weight, it is too much now
Grey with trash and smog and hubris
Lumpy old giant carpet world, not large enough
For all we sweep under it
The moment hovers, like a dragonfly over water
The lights of a million billion small screens
Our precious fireflies
Flicker and go out
Then the water, the raging torrent
Covers everything, everything
Then it is over
The end

Read and listen to Nostalgia

Haven’t you grown? I didn’t know
how to respond to that. I swore
I’d never say it. I say it.
I watch their faces screw up
as mine once did. I wanted
to be a grown-up. I wanted
to exclaim at the speed of
time passing. To sit with other
grown-ups and reminisce.
To smell of perfume and have
pleats round my eyes. We don’t
talk about time going treacle slow
About being disliked or being
afraid. Confused in a world of
confusion, voices loud behind
closed doors. We don’t want to
talk about that.

Read and listen to Saturday Morning

It is the right sort of day
To curl cat-like beneath a duvet
On the sofa, with a book
As you squawk and chirrup on the floor
Batting and kicking at hanging plastic toys
Chewing to ease the fire in your gums
I don’t mind being woken early
When it is with a smile of pure joy
The day is yours, you claim it
With bright eyes and seeking starfish hands
You talk to a toucan with a rainbow beak
You look at me, your anchor
The sky is dark, rain drumming a steady beat
We are bright in here
Me with my eggs and tea
You holding court on a bright simulacrum
of an Amazonian rainforest
Beaming at a plump stingless bee

Read and listen to The Real

Some biological plan for companionship
Making puppets of us all
With filmy figures tacky
Smite like jaundice on this long
Long time it has been
Long road to go so far
Without ever moving
Insect pinned and dried this
Self-indulgence never really dies
Infiltrating even these, my dark jewels
My million tetra fish
Something founders in my back
My feet cramp and ankles slump
My ear is bleeding, bleeding hours
Something in my head will now stop
A joyous authentic cuckoo clock

Read and listen to Iris at the Park

I looked up and saw
On the seesaw, her arm
around a smaller child
Making sure she didn’t fall
Then, she sat behind the
smaller child. They bounced.
The child squealed, excited. Secure.
My girl her bulwark.
Easy tears came to my eyes at
The care she took of a child we
didn’t know, yet ours
As all are ours, yet none.

Read and listen to Parent Time

Where does the time go?
I know and you know
How long a day can seem
When it starts at three am
How long a night when
A temperature is taken repeatedly
Hoping the numbers are the right
Side of a hospital visit
There are the weeks that become
Months then years of hands
Grasping for you in the dark
As only you have the power
To make nightmares disappear.

Where does the time go?
I know and you know
How to laugh over a thousand
Rejected meals, how to stand
Stoic in oceans of tears
How to make the same book
Sound new, where best to hang
The just washed clothes again
And again and again. We know.
We know where the time goes.

Read and listen to Bus Ride

Two buses to get to the party
Says Mummy. You like buses
They mean I-Spy
Top deck on the second bus, yay!
Climbing the stairs, a girl calls hello
She is sparkly, like you
Sparkly, six and loves Frozen Two
You sing the songs, not too loudly
Your grown-ups smile and think of coffee
You’ve lost teeth, she hasn’t
You’ve both got blue eyes and
Names beginning with I
At journey’s end you hold hands
Running to the party, grown-ups saying
Wait and Mind the Road
You can’t slow down when there is
A bouncy castle and cake ahead
And more sparkly, singing
Six year old friends.

Amanda Hodgson

writes fiction, non-fiction and poetry. 

Her short fiction collections: Feed the Need, MIcrolives and Holy Water are available on Amazon. A story from Holy Water was recently featured in Ragged LIon Journal.

Amanda was a contributor to The Eco Guide to Sussex and runs The Meal Plan page on Facebook. She blogs on WordPress and is an enthusiastic contributor to Goodreads.

 

Book Cover - The Two of Us

Holy Water - by Amanda Hodgson

Fourteen tales following water as it flows through Lake Volta, crashes on the Sussex shore …

Find out more here …

 

Book Cover - The Two of Us

Microlives - by Amanda Hodgson

Microlives is a contemporary collection of Flash Fiction about people linked by location …

Find out more here …

 

Book Cover - The Two of Us

Feed The Need - by Amanda Hodgson

Seven sour stories about eating. Consume if you dare. …

Find out more here …