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Abigail George

Abigail George

Abigail George studied film and television production for a short while, which was followed by a brief stint as a trainee at a production house. She is a writer and poet. She has lived in Johannesburg and Port Elizabeth but she is currently living in Port Elizabeth. She has had poetry published in print and online. She has had short fiction published online. In 2005 and 2008 she was awarded grants from the National Arts Council in Johannesburg. She is not purely devoted to poetry but to pursuing writing fulltime. Storytelling for her has always been a phenomenal way of communicating and making a connection with other people.
 
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 Thinking of the scientist John Nash thinking in codeThinking of the scientist John Nash thinking in code by Abigail George
(for my mother and father)The world in which I liveis a ki
 Shepherd's FieldShepherd's Field by Abigail George
Shepherd’s Field(for Ambronese)    Our expectations were obsessive that Saturday.  
 No More Imagining Things of the PastNo More Imagining Things of the Past by Abigail George
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 A prayer for the dementia of the fleshA prayer for the dementia of the flesh by Abigail George
(For the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)    ‘The flame in the snow’, in the field,    In the wild ‘song of songs’ wilderness of
 A swimmer's life under waterA swimmer's life under water by Abigail George
There’s an accident-prone toddler in the house. My brother’s son. Will he have more children,I wonder to myself as I make tea. Watchin
 Pear country during EasterPear country during Easter by Abigail George
(for Julian)You’re just a boy and I’m just an invisible girl. You’retenderness, light, angelic.You’re a still life portrait.
 I've discovered the meaning of lifeI've discovered the meaning of life by Abigail George
(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)The air is sweet here, and I am filled    with a sudden longing for you. It just    didn’t work out and
 MotherMother by Abigail George
(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)They all had this other life I knew nothing    about. This distant family in name only on    my father
 The woman that was a starlingThe woman that was a starling by Abigail George
(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)Put the lion in his magnificent cell andworship him there. In my dream leavesturn into milk quietly. Daylight crushedmy dr
 Therapy or SpringTherapy or Spring by Abigail George
(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)    I lose myself in Johannesburg. Upstreets. Down streets. I know its map    like I know the back of my hand.
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