Saturday, 25 January 2020

bury me with a book

bury me with a book
deep within a dingle nook
then whisper to the breeze 
do not defame or even
whisper his name
save what the pages
in all of their sadness rages
shaking the tears from the trees
to lay upon a silver brook
to hook his seven seas

Thursday, 23 January 2020

should we lament


should we lament

should we lament
the sperm that didn’t make the womb
or the precious egg
that fell out far too soon 
or the day we went our separate way
and rend our troth pledged to the moon
it was meant to be
it was not you or me
that fell apart down the days

the torso of the earth is often bleak
caves and mountains dark and light
and try as we might
we never found the love we sought
yet bought the time to crave a
love that we could take to our grave

so lament not our gamete games
in gonadotropin trust and beg
that egg will meet sperm
and sperm meet egg
and start all over again

Tuesday, 21 January 2020

walking the works

walking the works

fountains of steam in the cold morning air
the ironwork’s cooling ponds just over there
where the giant reed mace in bobbing refrain
the coot and the moorhen patrol their domain

past the gasometer rusting and well past reprise
and the tyre garage squealing oil black debris 
on across the neath road to raid the abattoir 
for maggots that tempt the trout out the choir

past the swansea vale works leaded and white
in deep culverts of slag speltered in spite
old derelict works with shuttered windows of lore
smiling when the kids of dare daring explore

foxes with golden coats just like the trains
with their names resplendent in dead-end domains
of scrapyards in rusting of green engine livery
and pipes to where god knows where - certainly not me

the dog and the fisherman watch water voles unfold
with trout in the rapids or under the banks to behold
the chickweed carpets rendered in surprise
hooks worms in both pockets diminutive in size

the rod and the reel of adventure fulfilled
noise on the iron works hammered and drilled
no deathly silence broken of late for
the manesment works is now far from great

where the roach and eels from the sargosso sea
caught at the end of the rickety pier by me
smaller and smaller to heol las a stream in demean
with tributaries disappearing into a marsh obscene

secondary-modern llansamlet’s toughest of schools
bullied into being a wooden corridor of fools 
so there our excursion has run to its source
and i return home for dinner of course

hark noah

come in granddad let’s run out
come out granddad let’s run in
come on granddad let’s run and run
hang hang on noah my grandson

do you know how old your granddad is? !!!!

Monday, 20 January 2020

his relatives are relative
as his nuclear family expands
        and he seems to be related 
     to all the people in all the lands
  how thoughts like these do twinkle
when space-time starts to wrinkle 
contemplating his ageing hands
 and relative to a baby’s bum
  this old man understands
what berefts a codger’s
   menial senile smile
shut in a dodger’s 
fluttering eyes 
far too many
light years
away
he is
is 
he
now
😉

Saturday, 18 January 2020

Life the sand between your toes‬

Life the sand between your toes‬
‪That’s how it goes‬
‪The tide comes in‬
The tide goes out‬
‪There’s never a doubt‬
That’s how it goes
That’s how it goes

Thursday, 16 January 2020

the charcoal globe awards

the charcoal globe awards

Attenborough 
they no longer believe ya
you Kookaburra
they have what they have
and they’ll burn in hell for the
harvest of what they have sown
what they own you disown at your peril
Canute could not arrest nor 
contest in the heat of the moment
what the extinction movement
could but fleetingly irritate the sleeping
dragon’s breath or draw down
the fire curtain against ego’s nonchalance
even the softest voice warning of doom’s seduction
was stripped like a thistle silent in the scorching wind