Saturday, 22 July 2017

Шкафът/The cabinet


                                                       I noticed something in the foyer:
                                                       a cabinet with smoked glass doors –
                                                       a fanciful designer motif,
                                                       distraction for waiting guests.

                                                       Inside, mementoes or signs
                                                       from another time gone by:
                                                       products of a craft
                                                       that sustained them

                                                       without clues to whom
                                                       they might have belonged –
                                                       though objects from a life
                                                       being realised in the world.


Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips

Friday, 14 July 2017

След няколко години/A few years later



                                                            The lizard breathes in summer
                                                            while it rests on the wall.

                                                            Vulnerable, unconcerned,
                                                            it’s waiting for evening cool
                                                            and the insects’ return.

                                                            History has turned
                                                            its ugly back on us.

                                                            From inside the house
                                                            I can hear the gulls
                                                           that warn of difficult weather.

                                                            She has put flowers in a jug
                                                            to remind us
                                                            of where we first met.


Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips

Friday, 7 July 2017

Рила/Rila


Our wishes remain in the wall,
scribbled, folded tight and slipped
between the stones. It’s a point
at which we’ll decide how much
we’ll put trust in our coincidence.

I’ll have every faith, no doubt.
We’re walking upwards
and talking of this and that
as we’ll emerge beyond the treeline
and the vast valley opens below us.


Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips


Thursday, 29 June 2017

До морето/Beside the sea


A ship’s bright lights against low cloud –
it’s almost as if summer is ending too soon.
And it has done, or felt like it did, one year ago.

On long promenades where kids jump
and monuments are distractions
or remnants of sagas best forgotten,

we’d be walking out of the tunnel
that links the old town and the new.
I’m familiarly displaced in long trousers,

that shirt. That curt farewell
was everything that we had coming.

In the aftermath of another unexpected turn,
I’m the one who’s having to trace my way
above a seaside resort’s beckoning lights.

Newspaper splashes do their best to vie
with rolling-over waves at the shore.
We were out here, at some point,

escaping fierce, unfamiliar sun,
the news, a decision that came to us,
reported from all directions.

That shirt. That curt farewell.
That was everything we had coming.


Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips



Saturday, 24 June 2017

Екзотика/Exotica


We are snuck in deep – that’s the hope.
The beds of exotics strive towards the sun.
Banana plants, orchids, the geraniums
that you didn’t know the word for –
and our grasping at language too.

This is where we are making our home
because the other one is being taken away –
not by those who come here,
but by those who insist on the differences,
who think they have a monopoly.

Maybe I am too dull to understand,
but I think I know what it will feel like
when the cases are unpacked
when we’ll be off to the shops
to buy milk and bread and cheese,
when the pot plants are out on the balcony.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips



Friday, 16 June 2017

Малките вещи вкъщи/Little things around the house



She’s already begun, sifting through
what we’ve taken for granted: the beasts
and other ornaments from the years
we’ve been together. She’s stern –
or trying to be – with our memories.
It has to be done. These shelves
which we hardly even noticed
are to be cleared. We’re moving out.

She’s already begun but I can’t imagine
how I’m ever going to get started.


Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips


Friday, 9 June 2017

Прогноза/Prognosis



                                                Not so long after dawn, the looming light
                                                is nostalgia for the sea in a landlocked country
                                                until there it is across the tree-studded field,
                                                returning colour like repaying a debt.

                                               The line advances, it’s pushing back.
                                               Things change overnight and the sun hits
                                               straight across the building sites.
                                               But then, at the end of the lane,
                                               there is always some hope,
                                               some shop that’s always open –
                                               the prognosis for other futures.

                                               Beyond the doorway and the window,
                                               life sprawls exactly as it’s always done
                                               and there’s the kettle and this is the view.

Image: Marina Shiderova; text: Tom Phillips