Mask
We all wear a mask made of knitted life
That covers our eyes, ears, nose, mouth and skin.
Its first stitch comes when Mum or Dad first says
‘Don’t let him see that – he’s too young to know.’
It grows as we become more restricted,
With each thing that we do not see or hear
And each smell or wrongful thought blotted out
Until much of the world is excluded.
We pass most of our life wrapped in this way.
If we notice the mask, it is too late;
The wool of life cannot be unravelled,
Although for years we say we wish it could.
Beyond a certain point, we start to wish
More of the world were shut out of our head
And then the mask is removed and there is
No barrier left; but no-one receives.
Page(s) 84
magazine list
- Features
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- 10th Muse
- 14
- Acumen
- Agenda
- Ambit
- Angel Exhaust
- ARTEMISpoetry
- Atlas
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
- Coffee House, The
- Dream Catcher
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- Erbacce
- Fabric
- Fire
- Floating Bear, The
- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
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- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
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- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
- Moodswing
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- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
- Oxford Poetry
- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
- Poetry Cornwall
- Poetry London
- Poetry London (1951)
- Poetry Nation
- Poetry Review, The
- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
- Purple Patch
- Quarto
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- Reach Poetry
- Review, The
- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
- Seventh Quarry, The
- Shearsman
- Smiths Knoll
- Smoke
- South
- Staple
- Strange Faeces
- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
- Ugly Tree, The
- Weyfarers
- Wolf, The
- Yellow Crane, The