So You Think You Know Modern Poetry?
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“The poems are sharp, clear, and confident. He has a clarity only a real poet possesses.” – Brian Patten
“An epic collage of nature, history, adventure and grief that leaps off the page and thumps you in the chest. From Celtic mythology, to the African bush and ‘The Matrix’, through the lives of Ho Chi Minh, Kathleen Mary Drew-Baker, an abused porn star, a transgender cousin, to ex-lovers and close family this collection ebbs and flows as mesmerically as a river on its journey to the sea. A fluid and heartfelt abstraction that speaks loudly to the passion that should run through all of us.” – Mark Davies
“Dave Lewis’s latest collection ‘Scratching the Surface’ is an engaging and diverse range of poems. It begins with the long, often rhythmic ‘Rivers’ which gifts the lines with a sort of onomatopoeic authority. It’s almost a metaphor for what follows, a series of well-crafted poems driven by theme and form. There are start of line rhymes (You and I), prose verse (A Dream of Gawain), end of line rhyme (Christmas Dad) and every combination between. The subjects are varied, but this confident poet succeeds in melding them into a coherent and rewarding collection.” – David J Costello
“Once again Lewis explores mankind’s relationship to his environment, whether that be natural, love, urban or wild. His writing is richly embedded at the confluence of place, space and identity and constantly challenges us to look at the landscape we inhabit and reflects upon it in new ways.” – G. Rees
“Scratching The Surface does far, far more than the title suggests as Lewis not only holds our whole world in his unswervingly brave hands, but also excavates its secrets and lies so cleverly spun for too long. His often hard-hitting poetry also shares intimate memories, which resonate with grace and passion, while fascinating author notes at the end, further enrich the reader’s experience. This remarkable collection is surely his best, most profound yet, and those who’ve not yet: ‘made the choice that benefits the planet and our place in it rather than continue along this narrow, selfish path to doom,’ will hopefully have pause for thought and be inspired. Bravo!” – Sally Spedding
You and I
You’re an ocean wave, when I’m a grain of sand.
You’re a skyscraper, when I’m a pane of glass.
You’re a mountaintop, when I’m a flake of snow.
You’re an open road, when I’m a car that goes.
You’re a waterfall, when I’m a drop of rain.
You’re a blue, blue sky, when I’m an aeroplane.
You’re a rainforest, when I’m a monkey’s cry.
You’re a stadium, when I’m a drunk barfly.
You’re a warm blanket, when I’m icy cold.
You’re a clear lake, when I’m offered gold.
You’re a spinning world, when I’m a photograph.
You’re a savannah, when I’m a small giraffe.
And when I’m lost in the desert you’ll kiss me with wine,
and when I’m drowning in sadness you’ll be my sunshine smile.
The blueness of his eyes is just a vague memory now,
a single day like The Hundred Years War.
You do the washing up, shower and sit,
watch the sparrows in the birdbath,
read a book, tidy drawers again.
Catch the bus to fetch a paper,
the one he always used to buy.
You put your slippers on,
then your shoes away,
until it’s shopping day.
Now it’s time to check the fridge,
then the TV page in your terraced cage.
You tell me about the garden
and all the weeds that are there,
then you brush your hair,
like someone cares.
You mention the bank statement,
how it’s late this month,
then you wash your cup
and fill the kettle up.
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