SPEECHLESS for Tamim When he hears us calling his name he knows it’s him we mean – its tongue-tap, resonance, and murmur of labials... Yet now he is making himself at home our expectations wither. We wait for a hint, a trickle... He can shape a word with his hands, or share his madcap smile. He can reach out and grab his brother’s favourite car – when Meem! No! Meem! fills his ears with its shrill refusal. Mopping up frustration, his mother sweeps him into her arms and says his name again. It lets him know he’s perfect, whole, complete… Like her we hold our breath. Like him we hold our peace.
| Poem by David Cooke (UK) Published in The Ofi Press Issue 34 |
David Cooke won a Gregory Award in 1977 and published his first collection, Brueghel’s Dancers in 1984. His retrospective collection, In the Distance, was published in 2011 by Night Publishing and a collection of more recent pieces, Work Horses, has recently been published by Ward Wood Publishing. His poems, translations and reviews have appeared widely in British and Irish journals including Agenda, Ambit, The Bow Wow Shop, The Critical Quarterly, The Irish Press, The London Magazine, Magma, The North, Orbis, Other Poetry, Poetry Ireland Review, Poetry London, Poetry Salzburg Review, The Reader, The SHOp and Stand.
Image used under Creative Common Laws by Keoni Cabral: "Honolulu Ghost Child"
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