Matthew Pullar

Esprit De L’Escalier

L’homme sensible, comme moi, tout entier à ce qu’on lui objecte, perd la tête et ne se retrouve qu’au bas de l’escalier… A sensitive man, such as myself, overwhelmed by the argument levelled against him, becomes confused and can only think clearly again [when he reaches] the bottom of the stairs… (Denis Diderot,Continue reading “Esprit De L’Escalier”

His Name is John (For the Nativity of John the Baptist)

The name was not a family name. But no-one in your family has That name! they said, as he wrote down, Faithful now at very last, Just what the angel said to him. And true – it was an unusual name; Yet as he scratched upon the page, “His name is John”, he felt aContinue reading “His Name is John (For the Nativity of John the Baptist)”

“…and here shall your proud waves be stopped” (Part Three)

III. “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41) And in the wildly shaking boat, The waves full in their tempest fury, The Lord asleep there in the boat, Calmly sleeping, fearless, sleeping While all about him roared the waves; Waking then he stood and turned Upon theContinue reading ““…and here shall your proud waves be stopped” (Part Three)”

“…and here shall your proud waves be stopped” (Part Two)

“…and here shall your proud waves be stopped” (Fourth Sunday After Pentecost)

I. Exegi monumentum aere perennius. I have raised a monument more permanent than bronze. (Horace, Odes, Book III) Out from the camp – the Philistine camp – came the champion, the fearful champion, height six cubits and a span, armed in mail, helmed with bronze, in a coat of bronze and on his legs twoContinue reading ““…and here shall your proud waves be stopped” (Fourth Sunday After Pentecost)”

The Shortest Day

Somewhere amidst the day the sun disappeared, Emitting no longer the rays it was expected to As clouds and pervasive grey cloaked the day, Slowly squeezing us into packets of clothes, Only noses emerging for sharp gusts of air. Next to the moon’s dark side or an eclipse this was, At least for now, theContinue reading “The Shortest Day”

Alban Yields

(Tomorrow is actually the day in which the Anglican Church remembers St. Alban, Britain’s first martyr. I have written his poem today, however, knowing I will not have time for it tomorrow.) Alban Yields Albanum egregium fæcunda Britannia profert. Fruitful Britain holy Alban yields. (Venantius Fortunatus, quoted by Bede, trans. William Hurst) The stream flowedContinue reading “Alban Yields”

The Quaking Earth: A Villanelle

When the quakes and winds rage, do not fret. Our homes and towns are safe and stable. Be strong, my dear; we’re not destroyed yet. The gate is locked, there is no threat. The baby’s safe within its cradle; When the quakes and winds rage, do not fret. It will pass and we’llContinue reading “The Quaking Earth: A Villanelle”

Marginalia

(Written on the only scrap of paper I had available at the time) i. the spaces in the margins serve as ample ground for flowers to bloom from words sewn wildly beyond beds and left to bloom in discarded soil ii. pensive pens make busy work for fingers in distracted moods, the sunlight onContinue reading “Marginalia”

The Hot-Air Balloon

Departing or perhaps arriving, In the park it stands and waits, Hot air blasting its insides, Bursting full with expectation. Just too late to catch my train, I sit and watch from my platform, The monarch of all I survey, And yet confined, like it, to ground. Proud in its bluff,Continue reading “The Hot-Air Balloon”