


Songs the Lightning sang was published on 7th May 2010.
Geoff is Irish–English with more distant Scottish ancestry. After reading Macdiarmid, Whitman and Kerouac, and everything else except his course books, he dropped out of university in 1970. His varied and almost imperceptibly distinguished career includes work on a hill sheep farm, in a coalyard, in archaeology, bookshops, as a typesetter and not least in certain infamous supermarkets.
He sometimes calls himself a poet, but this is, above all, an aspiration only as good as the next poem. He has lived in Scotland for 24 years, won the Hugh Macdiarmid Trophy in 1994, but then inexplicably gave up writing for several years. He’s back now and has been published, among others, in New Writing Scotland, Pirenne’s Fountain (Sydney) and has been translated into Turkish.
Reviews:
"Throughout 'Songs The Lightning Sang', one can sense an almost tangible passion for words, and a passion for sharing the essence of being human. It is an essence common to all of us, and it is a passion that should be shared. Cooper acknowledges this as only a master poet can, being at once profound and accessible." Andrew McCallum Crawford
"Geoff Cooper's poetry is unashamedly Romantic ... but achieving a voice of his own by tempering the lushness with accurate observation of the natural world and careful control of metre and structure. It is sensual poetry, inspired by landscapes, painting and music, passionate, as becomes a first collection, but also powerful and mature." Elizabeth Rimmer
Here's a sample poem:
Cullipool Bay
As the light returns
the view becomes
rock and water more or less
earth almost naked
granite breasts of mountains
flanks and cliffs of lava flow
the rough blades of the Slate Islands
angle into one more morning
there is a skim of green
where a few sheep graze
The miners of Luing
knew this naked earth
a daily contest
slashing hands and bodies
choking lungs
giving taking
island lives
Today no blast of shot
or hammering of slate
the low white cottages
easily accept
the summons of the day
The water continues its cold embrace
the rock dominates and endures
This it seems is essential
Not the softness of chlorophyll
Or the painful bivouacs of men.
Copyright © Geoff Cooper 2010
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