My Father's Pot and Other Poems

Opens with the visual impact of the death of the poet's father, in which reflections of both recent and childhood memories are brought sharply into focus. And as the time scales shift from the present into the past, the reader is subject to powerful, yet dark, or even idiosyncratic, imagery of 'home'. Of course, no home is complete without the voice of a mother, which here indeed, figures prominently: Touch his forehead and you'll never be afraid; or her having to 'patch up the pains of the day'. Here, Harriet Torr presents to us a sequence of mainly bittersweet reminiscence, of a harsh, yet loving existence, the irony of which is wryly summed up in the concluding poem. However, let's not forget the 'Other Poems', brilliantly opened by the highly commendable 'Tsunami Girl', and augmented by the brio of her no-nonsense, and variable, relationship narratives. Yes, this is the fabric of family stuff - and emotionally resilient...

Comments on My Father's Pot and Other Poems

I admire 'My Father's Pot'. Congratulations on your strong and well-shaped book - David Morley. David Morley

Tsunami Girl

Her belongings, like skins,
float back to the original effluvia of ocean beds.
An archive of buttons, newly dyed with fish spawn,
congealed with masonry skill,
disturbs the isotopes of an ocean’s plan.
A crustacean, plotting the symmetries of its world
between its kelp stones,
stares at the hems and petticoats trailing him.

The pink ghosts of muscles still fasten
round the dress and an occasional sea bird
dips its beak into its folds, deciphering its smells,
the idiosyncrasy of its shapes: the neck stem displaced,
the dislocated spine of its buckle digging the waist
where a strong hold of sea lice thrill to its curves.

TV men with diving suits and tanks
return for a second take:
the satin dress holding itself up to the poles of the waves
like origami dancing, twitching lace mimicking breath,
sand filled pouch, its warmth.
It dances past the slow differential of a fin,
its acrimony of scales, its Mache print of skin,

to the laughing girl shedding herself
like Narcissi in the tsunami wave.

Bio: Harriet Torr was born in Royton, Lancashire, but now lives on a croft in Westfield, Caithness. Her poetry has appeared in many magazines including Stand, Agenda, Arvon & Daily Telegraph Anthology, Envoi, Northwords Now, Frogmore Papers, Interpreter’s House, The New Writer, Poetry News. She has also had work set to music by Anglo-American composer Paul Crabtree: www.paulcrabtree.net

In 2008 she was commended in The National Poetry Society’s annual competition. This is her first collection.