- Isobel Salt
LED Laser beams of Love and Protection, Transporting, A tree.
Updated: Mar 12
LED Laser beams of Love and Protection.
That’s not how
You repay my love.
Try, ‘yes! Lights!
I’d die electric death
To feel the prickly heat!
Please watch my bursting,
Watch my dash-crash-plunge
Onto your screen, reach out and touch
Me! Come visit sometime, I’m always here
Don’t worry I’m fine – to me this is breathing.’
Don’t pull that face!
Find some eyelids,
We keep them piled
In the corner.
There’s plenty. Yes,
Plenty all freshly picked
Your skin, your linen is mine
To keep, safe and washed.
No moving now, stay still
Else you’ll get pricked
By the pins I use
To hold us all in place-
And drop dark spots on the
I took upon myself to clean.
Breath whips water’s edge white,
The beach is a frothing pile
A smallish plaque reads:
Breath comes from faraway
And has a tendency
To do strange things.
Here the cricket’s song stings the purple air
Where you might wear shoes on tarmac.
Here the ants come looking for sweet spots
Where long days rollover like docile dogs—
A dog I was, sleeping covered in ants
When my mind was touched
By a dead old man—
Now I think solid,
Of alchemy and half-goat
Gods, reaching in,
Combing the strings
Of my soul with fat, calloused fingers.
Inspired by Luke Kerton-Johnson
The branch hanging in front of the moon is a nerve under a microscope, signalling starlings across the membrane of sky.
Old trunk runs elephant hide to its tips.
It is very small to stand by your side.
Isobel Salt (She/ Her) is a third year student studying English Literature at the University of Edinburgh. She began to develop a more serious taste for writing poetry after taking a creative writing course in 2022. Her other writing exports include plays written for Fringe (The Macbeth Inquiry 2022, Catfish The Cabaret 2023). A large source of inspiration for these poems is processing experience and the invention of memory.