RETROGRADE & OTHER POEMS
Zoë Davis
// pluck a minute
to pay the universe
a star-crossed debt //
RETROGRADE
I break everything I see
like Venus who cares
where the sun rises
if night could turn back
time I would file heart’s
teeth blunt
wouldn’t stray
pluck a minute
to pay the universe
a star-crossed debt
there is good reason
our bedsheets are white
ghosts do not show up
in the dark.
AND THE ANGELS REJOICED. WAR
THEY CRIED YET SO DID WE.
Seek me in the distant bell that tolls
through winter’s forest lustful branches
grasping notes as if they were leaves
returning. This is not a lover’s song
it is a banshee’s lullaby. Hush. Come
to me in dreamtime skimming raw loam
mulch pressing shards of bled autumn
between weathered hands just hold on
remember what dwelling here was
like before that tocsin chimed “foe” &
you lit fires against me. I needed your
sound yet you grew silent our desire
a valley too steep to conquer. Take sides.
Kindle swords. They sing from their
sheaths as ambush extinguishes hilltop
beacons once lit by twin flames wick
still burning. Your vibrations split night
shattered grass fell the grandest oak.
I now see why they call them blades.
ANXIETY
If you turn me one way
I dazzle
pearls diamonds
Swarovski skin
impenetrable
looks bouncing off
impeccable
as I enter the room
miniature projectiles
of self-seeking judgement
missing their mark as
I wear confidence
over perfume.
But if you turn me
inside out
moments before
existence
a void
a black hole
sucking everything navelwards
timelightcourage
an event horizon
I wish only to bypass
crawling into another space
to glimmer softly
there.
Author's Note
Zoë Davis
When I write, it often begins not with a feeling, but with a clear image that holds a duality, a tension I need to unravel. For this collection, that process started with Venus — the planet of desire, yet the only one in our solar system that spins in reverse. This image became the engine for "Retrograde," a poem exploring a rebellious refusal of cosmic order, where the desire to break and obliterate is really a desperate bid for a pristine, blank slate.
This duality extends to the personal in "Anxiety", turning the polished, impenetrable mask we present to the world upside down to reveal the terrifying, gravitational collapse of the internal self. A theme of mutual combat then emerged, moving from the cosmic to the intimate. In "And the angels rejoiced" I found the language for a painful, mutual destruction. It's a poem that explores how a deep connection, a love that feels divine, can simultaneously be the most devastating weapon. My experience writing these poems was about holding these contrasts together, trying to find resolution, not in peace, but in the stark clarity of the actual fight.
Zoë Davis is an emerging writer from Sheffield, England. She's a stubborn FND sufferer and fights what her body says she can't do by playing wheelchair rugby league. In her free time she writes poetry and prose, and especially enjoys exploring the interaction between the fantastical and the mundane, with a deeply personal edge to her work. You can find her words in publications such as: Ink Sweat & Tears, Strix, Roi Fainéant, Dust and Red Ogre Review. You can also follow her on X @MeanerHarker where she's always happy to have a virtual coffee and a chat.