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 <rss version="2.0" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:rssdatehelper="urn:rssdatehelper"><channel><title>
          Thirdway Poetry</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk</link><pubDate></pubDate><generator>umbraco</generator><description>Christian comment on culture</description><language>en</language><item><title>Footage</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/jun-2012/poem-/footage.aspx</link><pubDate>Mon, 14 May 2012 12:42:02 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/jun-2012/poem-/footage.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p><img src="/media/49515/poem.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="poem.jpg"/></p>

<p>Pink Floyd, McCartney, Daltrey<br />
 thrashing their ghosts for charity.<br />
 And how we remember.<br />
 How the pledges pour in.<br />
<br />
 (how the ghosts inside us all<br />
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; tap their feet,<br />
 &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nb...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Oxford Downpour</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/may-2012-/poem-/oxford-downpour.aspx</link><pubDate>Fri, 27 Apr 2012 12:10:02 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/may-2012-/poem-/oxford-downpour.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>Still&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I hear the gush of
rushing runoff<br />
along the cobblestones<br />
<br />
Still picture<br />
the ambulation of black umbrellas<br />
between colleges&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; as rain
falls<br />
darkening Oxford streets<br />
<br />
My preoccupation isn't shelter&nbsp;&...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>The man who cut the cross</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/apr-2012-/poem-/the-man-who-cut-the-cross.aspx</link><pubDate>Thu, 08 Mar 2012 11:26:43 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/apr-2012-/poem-/the-man-who-cut-the-cross.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>had a bad job when you think about it -&nbsp;</p>

<p>cutting crucifixes from stripped timbers.&nbsp;</p>

<p>How smooth did he finish them?</p>

<p>Was his father a carpenter?</p>

<p>Did he hope to do great things?&nbsp;</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p>

<p>But had he not done it well, had the cross collapsed,</p>

<p>would claw-hammers h...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Breaking bread</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/mar-2012/poem-/breaking-bread.aspx</link><pubDate>Wed, 08 Feb 2012 11:11:27 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/mar-2012/poem-/breaking-bread.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>There are many ways to break bread.</p>

<p>I have just torn a crust apart</p>

<p>to make no more than tasty mouthfuls.</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p>

<p>One could cut it neatly into enough</p>

<p>slices for that five o'clock tea</p>

<p>my mother remembers when the parlour</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p>

<p>was not only open to the family</p>
...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Two men in a boat</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/janfeb-2012/poem-/two-men-in-a-boat.aspx</link><pubDate>Wed, 08 Feb 2012 11:11:06 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/janfeb-2012/poem-/two-men-in-a-boat.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>He holds the oars as if these might be helping hands</p>

<div
style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 769px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: hidden;"
 id="_mcePaste">He holds the oars as if these might be helping
hands</div>

<div
style="position: absolute; left: -10000px; top: 769px; width: 1px; height: 1px; overflow: h...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>The Haiku Masters</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/dec-2011/poem-/the-haiku-masters.aspx</link><pubDate>Tue, 15 Nov 2011 10:59:36 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/dec-2011/poem-/the-haiku-masters.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>Even the map had been washed away, even<br />
the ground plan, all roads had become dredged memories after<br />
the wave broke in, after the snow. Now<br />
there was just the same chaos as before the world began.<br />
<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;I followed footsteps<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;of Basho and Chiyo-Ni,<br />
&nbsp;&nbsp; ...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Beatitude/Mortmain</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/nov-2011-/poem-/beatitudemortmain.aspx</link><pubDate>Fri, 21 Oct 2011 11:42:07 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/nov-2011-/poem-/beatitudemortmain.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>Bless the olive<br />
our oldest<br />
greenest fuel.<br />
Crushed, savoured, lit<br />
it nurtures, it<br />
illuminates.<br />
<br />
Sold, it's a living.<br />
<br />
Bulldozed …<br />
it's history.<br />
<br />
But when<br />
the dead hands<br />
of the six million<br />
sow Lebanon's<br />
groves with<br />
eviscerati...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>The Death of Jacob</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/oct-2011/poem-/the-death-of-jacob.aspx</link><pubDate>Thu, 08 Sep 2011 12:29:41 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/oct-2011/poem-/the-death-of-jacob.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p><img src="/media/41588/poem_500x333.jpg"  width="500"  height="333" alt="poem.jpg"/></p>

<p>All of us have driven North this far<br />
 to see him lying skeletal and faint<br />
 in bed with apple sauce wrapped in Mylar.<br />
 We stand quiet, as though before a saint<br />
 whose last words we'll record, repeat, invoke.<br />
 'The...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>Siren Water</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/julaug-2011/poem-/siren-water.aspx</link><pubDate>Tue, 14 Jun 2011 12:14:55 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/julaug-2011/poem-/siren-water.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p><img src="/media/38909/poem_239x842.jpg"  width="239"  height="842" alt="poem.jpg" class="floatleft"/>The fourth
part was water<br />
 where no venturer had dared,<br />
 or none returned to tell.<br />
 There was a paradise drowned.<br />
 The ancient books give hint<br />
 of maps consumed by fire,<br />
 or lost at sea -<br />
 t...]]></content:encoded></item><item><title>To be an asylum seeker</title><link>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/june-2011/poem-/to-be-an-asylum-seeker.aspx</link><pubDate>Wed, 11 May 2011 12:51:45 GMT</pubDate><guid>http://www.thirdwaymagazine.co.uk/editions/june-2011/poem-/to-be-an-asylum-seeker.aspx</guid><content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
<p>To be an asylum-seeker is like a jumbo jet<br />
Your presence always creates noise<br />
To be an asylum-seeker is like a media telescope<br />
You are always in the media domain day by day<br />
To be an asylum-seeker is like an unwelcome visitor<br />
Your departure date is always asked<br />
<br />
To be an asylum-seeker is like ...]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>

