Matthew Paul: Poetry & Stuff

I’ve written about Edward Burra before, here, and my admiration for him, his art and his life are undiminished. A couple of weeks ago I visited Playden, a mile north of Rye, East Sussex, where Burra grew up and lived until 1957, after his father died. The family lived at Springfield Court throughout those first 52 years of Burra’s life.

Burra is buried in the close-by churchyard of St Michael’s, Playden. It’s a surprising resting-place, given that he held no Christian beliefs, but it’s a pleasant spot, replete with a stone frog.

Rye Art Gallery has a room dedicated to Burra, including a cabinet full of his brushes, photographs and other ephemera.

I aim to write more poems about him and/or in response to his paintings. For now, though, below is the poem (loosely) based on his 1943–5 painting of the same name, accessible here, and which was published in issue no. 4 of The Alchemy Spoon.

The Cabbage Harvest

Halfway up the back road to Leigh,
under hard-bastard, leaden skies,
two wind-rounded labourers squeeze
the heads to test maturity;

decide the time is ripe, before
Storm Dudley breaks; to lop them free
from the stalk base and rapidly
cram the lot into sacks galore;

spread-eagling their fingers and palms
across the lumps, as if they’ve topped
the gangmaster—and roughly chopped
his carcass up, like lemon balm.