Poetry Monday

As part of the Reading blog comment challenge, I've been visiting (and commenting on) a lot of blogs, and one of the trends I've noticed is a regular day-of-the-week post on a particular topic.  I like the idea, so I've decided to begin a Poetry Monday series in which I reprint something I've come across in the previous week that I've liked.  This means I've got to read some poetry the week before, which is always a worthwhile way to spend time, and good for me as a writer too since I'm working on a book, and reading poetry is the best way to stimulate writing it - it gets your mind in the right observant groove. For this first blog, I thought I'd feature a poem I love so much for all its terrible beauty, I've committed it to memory.  It's the great Dorothy Porter's "III" from her "Comets" series in Other Worlds (Picador, 2001). What have you read that you've loved so much it's stayed with you, moving through your skin into the very fabric of you you are?

What voice of dirty ice
is talking in my head?

I can't watch the sky
without ringing Heaven.

My heart ticking as slowly
as poison
over its hissing dial tone.

Pick up, Heaven.
Please pick up.

It's me.