Strider Marcus Jones's Blog: https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/, page 29

February 6, 2016

January 28, 2016

January 3, 2016

January 2, 2016

Delighted to have a poem in Thirteen Ways Magazine January 2016/Volume 2/Issue 1http://thirteenwaysmagazine.com/

Thirteen Ways Magazine January 2016 Volume 2 Issue 1 One poem by Strider Marcus Jones


http://thirteenwaysmagazine.com/


Thirteen Ways Volume II, Issue I features:


Poetry by Jennifer Clark, Richard Heby, Strider Marcus Jones, Corey Mesler, Al Ortolani, Kenneth Salzmann, and Andrea Wyatt; fiction by James Mulhern and Monika McGreal Viola; visual media by Gabriel Folli, Kelli Funkhouser, and Frank Light; and collaborative art by Willie Caldwell, Ryan McHugh, and Tanner Upthegrove.


http://thirteenwaysmagazine.com/wp-content/Thirteen%20Ways%201.1.16%20Print%20version.pdf


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Published on January 02, 2016 07:27

December 22, 2015

December 9, 2015

December 6, 2015

http://www.deepwaterliterary.com/home... Delighted to have 3 of my poems accepted for the 2016-Issue 1 of Deep Water Literary Journal.

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Published on December 06, 2015 10:50

https://thecurlymindblog.wordpress.co... Reuben Woolley on publishing the first issue of The Curly Mind. Brilliant work from some amazing poets and thankye for publishing two of my poems in this issue.

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Published on December 06, 2015 10:27

October 16, 2015

Delighted to have 3 poems published by Antarctica Journal http://antarcticajournal.com/poem-low...

cropped-antarctic


POEM – LOW VAULTED CEILINGS (BY STRIDER MARCUS JONES)
October 16, 2015 Antarctica Journal

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within those man stone walls

promoting their god

bringing us to him

i told the priest-

you tell us to be content

with poverty

while you live in this big house

throwing us scraps

begged from money lenders.

this is not what Jesus

asked his disciples to do.

this is not what he died for.

he said live amongst us

and share what they have.

the priest,

red with rage,

oppressive and oppressed-

pulled my mam aside

made her shrink in his stare

weep in his words

walk me in our sins

from his dark-damp house of angels.

outside

in feral sunshine

i pointed to grinning gargoyles

chasing chastened shadows

back down primitive paths-

to a cellar flat,

bare bulb dangling

prison beam probing

baptised flesh

and mam tipped tears

soaking into straw mattresses

sucking up cold from the flagstone floor

woodworms eating a Van Gogh table

where six mouths sat

sharing stale bread and cold beans

with whiskered skirting board mice.

years later,

i left Dedalus in Dublin

in the pages of a book

to his epiphany

and Jesuit suit of guilt-

while i quenched

my glistening fruit

in street light ladies-

drenched in smokey curling

dancing clouds

and stories from voices

bouncing off low vaulted ceilings

caressing human in darkness.



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Published on October 16, 2015 10:56

https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/

Strider Marcus Jones
Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and ex civil servant from Salford/Hinckley, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published book ...more
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