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I wonder if you wonder much of me

As I have travelled low throughout the years

To make a place of shame my history.

For all your sophists in their sanity

Is my name met, but with a sickened smear?

I wonder if you wonder much of me,

Or sovereign promises that turned to be

But negatives, preserved within veneer

To make a place of same my history.

Or do you think my notoriety

Is fit for worth or madness in my tears?

I wonder if you wonder much of me

In my self loathing; are you company

To bind on my destruction, so that we're

To make a place of shame my history?

Or, do you cameo the memories

Of one who's more than squalid sonneteer?

I wonder if you wonder much of me,

To make a place of shame my history.

Robert Grant (C) 2014

The Squalid Sonneteer

BOOKS

In this first collection of poems Robert Grant explores the essence of what it is to be human. From mythology and ancient ritual, through the wars of the twentieth century and ideals of the twenty first, this powerful and unique debut is at once literary, dazzling and subversive, exploring desire, loss, love and death.

Exploring the essences of ritual, belief and mythology, through to interpersonal relationships and conflict, he finds inspiration in such poets as Siegfried Sassoon and W. H. Auden. Although not unfamiliar with free verse, it is within the classical forms that Grant believes he is best equipped to express himself.

 

Examples of Robert Grant's work

Could any of us question what we'd seen,

That night the blizzard swept us from the road?

Redigging tracks and knocking shovels clean,

Could any of us question what we'd seen?

The frozen wind blew ice on where we'd been;

We huddled close, in silence, as we rode.

Could any of us question what we'd seen

That night the blizzard swept us from the road?

Even as the heaven's darkly melted,

Even as the skies began to grow

Heavy with the crystals that they pelted,

Even as the sky struck up with snow,

Many of our footprints vanished brightly,

Soft and shuffled, useless guides to home.

Many of them filled their hollows nightly,

As many of us lost our way in snow.

Pathways that for years had seen us keeping

Welcome hearths for those who'd come and go,

Villagers would lose, despite their sweeping

As villages were lost within the snow.

Even as we shouted out our warnings

The blizzards wept and blinded us again.

               How could we ever know?

Somewhere, as I heard your echoes calling,

I stood my ground and lost myself in snow.

 

BIO

Robert Grant worked in a variety of jobs, from agriculture, the leisure industry and the print media, before reading Psychology at the University of Wales. Although writing fiction had always played an important part of his life, it was not until contacting a debilitating long-term illness that he turned to poetry.

A self taught poet, after a decade of developing his craft, Robert Grant released his first collection of poems, The Judas Tree, in 2013. His second volume of work, Night Haunting, was published by Creative Future and the Arts Council for England in 2015. In 2016/17 he took part in a local radio show reading his own work on air with a selection of other local poets.

A recorder and reader of his own work, he can often be seen frequenting many of the poetry/spoken word events in the Brighton area. 

 

 

CONTACT & LINKS

For all inquiries, please contact Robert Grant at robertgwriter@gmail.com

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LINKS

 
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