Poems by Eleanor Hooker

Silence
    
Non chiudere le mie labbra aprendo le tue
            Umberto Eco


Hoarse from speaking to herself
she seals her lips with a single suture.

She has trapped her voice inside, screams
no longer cut her lips to draw another’s blood.

She believes she will sail deeper oceans on this avowal 
of silence. She becomes weightless swallowing

words her thoughts prompt her not to speak.
When I unpick the stitch, she mumbles she has no desire 

to be saved. As she steps up to the liferaft, I take 
her hand, alarmed by this new storm blowing through us. 

​


​
The Shout


The wind is inconsolable.

Crouching to vent my drysuit,
I hear gravel scatter, greeting calls
as my fellow crew rush to change
for the Shout. What’s out there? 

they ask. I tell them what I know. 
‘It’s seven and gusting’, our Launching 
Authority says, ‘’it’ll be rough by Parker’s.’ 
This we already know.

One, two, whacks on my back tell me
crew are seated, feet in stirrups.
With an all clear port and starboard, 
I open the throttle, launch into the maelstrom.

The water is bruised purple and black.  
Our ballast tank full equals the weight
of three men in the bow, keeps our
nose down as we face the turmoil

of this inland sea. On our port side,
a conspiracy of Cormorants
huddle on Salmon Island’s 
rocky crop, keeping watch.

In open water the waves
heap up, retching, dumping turf
stained lake across our bow. I power
up the face then throttle off 

so we don’t take flight at the crest, 
pendulum to a bow over 
stern capsize. By Hare Island
a turn to port and a beam sea

makes us wary of rogue waves
quarter side on. I hold a reserve 
on the helm - to power us away 
from harm if needed, and for safety,

steer in at forty-five degrees.
At Parkers Point with a boxing sea
and pyramid waves, we read all
movement, call it as I steer behind, 

in front and away from breakers.
In my earpiece our Radio 
Operator, seated behind me, transmits 
our location every fifteen to Valentia.

We see them ahead below the Middle 
Ground, side on to weather and sliding
down the shoulder of a breaking wave.
But with nothing beneath them, 

their anchor drags before their makeshift 
drogue snaps them to, bow to weather. 
I ease us in from windward.
A crew climbs across, carrying 

a radio, a smile, First Aid. 
Eight on board, all below
except the skipper, luminescent 
in his orange lifejacket.

My crew shouts to those below, 
reassures them. After a quick survey 
of frightened faces he gets to, 
sets up a bridle before he 

and the skipper haul in anchor
and drogue. I helm into wind to 
cross the T and pass the tow, count
sets as crew pays out line until I call,

‘secure the tow’. As we make way, 
we radio back to centre their rudder.
With an eye to the swell, the wind
and boat astern, we plough a trough, 

ease back as the line groans, then into 
weather we point west through Scarriff Bay, 
steering clear of the Middle Ground. In the lee of Bushy 
Island we shorten the tow, safe harbour in sight at last.

​

Eleanor Hooker is a poet and writer living in Tipperary. Her debut collection, The Shadow Owner's Companion (The Dedalus Press) was shortlisted for the Strong/Shine Award, for Best First Irish Collection 2012. Her second collection of poetry is forthcoming later in 2016. Her poems have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize (2014) and Forward Prize for Best Single Poem (2014, 2016), translated into Polish and Romanian (upcoming) and published in a number of print journals including: Poetry Ireland Review, POETRY, Agenda, PN Review and The Stinging Fly and in online journals including Southword, The Ofi Press, Poethead and Spontaneity. 
She was awarded 1st Prize in the 2016 Bare Fiction, Flash Fiction Prize. Her fiction has been published in Banshee, The Woven Tale Press and Bare Fiction. She holds an BA (Hons 1st), Open University, an MA (Hons) in Cultural History, University of Northumbria, an MPhil in Creative Writing (Distinction), Trinity College, Dublin. Trained as a nurse and midwife, Eleanor is currently Programme Curator for the Dromineer Literary Festival, helm and Press Officer for the Lough Derg RNLI. 

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Weblinks:
Eleanor Hooker’s website http://eleanorhooker.com
Eleanor Hooker at the Poetry Foundation http://www.poetryfoundation.org/search?q=eleanor+hooker
Eleanor Hooker at Poetry International website http://www.poetryinternationalweb.net/pi/site/poet/item/26585/Eleanor-Hooker

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