Tuesday 29 June 2021

the palatinate of childhood

 the palatinate of childhood 


the palatinate of childhood 

the players

where did you fit in

fitted in

unthought 

how the sculptor of time

and again rough edges

elbow jostled

into the grassed knees

the bloody grazes

the bandaged mothers

while all along the man

was growing in the boy

who ran the bridges 

and jumped the streams

without biting his tongue once

all those days now just

an invisible splinter 

under the nails of a clause

in the contract with youth

hold on

the wheel is turning

take your seat

trust me

 trust me 


but they don’t ask do they 

they ask others to interrogate you

they take their word for it 

they they they

could have asked

if indignation is was

their fault all along

the earthquake 

that ensued

is predictable

well I ask you

Monday 28 June 2021

one breath

one breath

another breath

the space between lengthens

stops 

starts

Cheyne-Stokes

they call it


you can call it out

when it stops

then tears start

explosive

then chugging like an old car

garaged 

until next summer


time you see

they say time will 

well

we’ll see

we’ll see

Sunday 27 June 2021

three hours!

 three hours!


three hours!

the washing machine says 

three hours!


my mum had a brass scrubbing board

on legs that went into a zinc bath

after we had bathed

a recess for a bar of carbolic

on it she knuckled syncopated jazz

long before skiffle was invented 

blues in a blue bag

for whitening white shirts


she could laugh for 

three hours

but a washing machine that says

three hours! ?


gerra way with you

nebulae

 nebulae

each one a is a star

gazing


just saying

gazing 

is amazing


nebulous 

thoughts

expanding


understanding

partly

          not


star struck

‘The moon’s a balloon’

David Niven said


google him

the Doors

 the Doors

the soundtrack of my youth

that era between the austere 50s

and the austere 70s

a time when everything seemed possible

flower power for god’s sake

where is flower power

or free love 

in the 21st century 

we banned the bombs 

didn’t we?

break on through to the other side?

Saturday 26 June 2021

them days when

 them days when


we didn’t have personal tablets

we had personal chalk boards

then ceramic inkwells

filled by the ink monitor

stick pens with a nib

crossed in splattering

scratched in concentration 

they made good darts

did them pens

i still have the black spot

it is marked etc

not even a gold star

the sum total

sinking like the ink

in the warm milk

cream crated 

on the doorstep 

of a door ajar 



the dream said

 the dream said

be quiet

lie still

we are conducting an experiment

and the results are coming in

through the background

of time’s noise

wait

we’ll report back

soon 

i promised 

Friday 25 June 2021

misery misery misery

 misery misery misery 


who remembers remembering 

now that nothing ever changes 

who has lost the memory

of memory’s sweetest pages

in the book of time that was

where time passed in mystery

if nothing changes it remains the same

said misery misery misery 

nettle rash

 nettle rash


strike a nettle and it will bite you

grasp a nettle and it will yield

all the smelly lady ladybirds 

we collected as children

now a stain on the fingers 

of a memory 

the real sting

of eyes watering 

this blooming of time

Thursday 24 June 2021

the promenade gardens

 the promenade gardens


the promenade gardens

nature tamed to

sit a moment to forget

everything

that is not everything 

is that it

the british empire

 the british empire 


the decline and fall of the british empire 

dry rot 

silently 

behind the facade

we mirror in mirror words

reflecting only dreams

the slivering peels away


fiddle with your imbecilities

your opiums of the masses

Dulce et decorum est

Pro patria mori

no way buddy

no bloody way

a flash of understanding

 a flash of understanding 


and here is a man’s heart

held in my hands 

as it was laid down in these lines

neither simple or profound 

bare 

they carry all that made that man write

and having written

then what

except here they are

in my hands after all

the years that separate us

in a flash

of understanding 

pray nothing replies

 and what if there is nothing

nothing never says nothing

so we make it up

it’s nothing really

but we rely so much upon it

pray nothing replies

although

I had a happy childhood 

although

I never had a party

although

I was never read to

I had the Dandy and the Beano

Topper and Beezer too

then the Victor book for Boys

although 

that was partly brainwashing 

for Queen and country

you know how it goes

although we didn’t need to go



 

Tuesday 22 June 2021

time was

 

time was 


hands that hold 

the knife to mind

sometimes cruel 

sometimes kind

sometimes hot 

sometimes cold

not the hand 

but the mind behold 

the dawns the dusks 

we toiled you know

blown like husks

in the driven snow

look at you now

look at me

asking how

this all came to be

Monday 21 June 2021

name it as you will

 name it as you will


fill the ladle

the ladle is full 

skim the dross 

the cupola is dropped

pouring now

the visors are up 

golden red

bloody red

then sun yellow 

pouring forth

the mould breaks 

the bot poles aim

flowing slowing

congealing now

there

stop now 

let it cool

the clamps are off

the mould falls away

in the black body radiation 

we know 

oh yes we know

how the fettling smooths 

the rough mountains 

solid as a rock 

it stands scrutiny 

name it as you will

for it has set the interpretations of

the perturbations on the sandy floor

where the footsteps walk away

for this is 

the word foundry

hot dusty and slaked

has delivered

the claimants arrive

as always

i am carried away

by it all


Sunday 20 June 2021

damages due

 damages due


in making life

this assaulting of the earth

                    ~

in making the earth 

this assaulting of life

                    ~

remittance is due

within twenty eight days

                    ~

maybe 28 years

never later than 128 years 

                   ~

   < reaction potential >

                   ~

can move the equilibrium 

towards equal inequality 

Saturday 19 June 2021

to the sea

 to the sea


an ocean in a field 

leading down to the sea

waving on an onshore

prevailing to be


a meadow in mist

the breath of a cow

morning thoughts

a series of how


can it be 

this season of me

when all of the spaces 

between spaces 

lead down to the sea

Thursday 17 June 2021

thinking outside the box

 thinking outside of the box


step out of the box

now look inside

it is empty ~ is it not

was it not 

when you were in there

was it not filled by you

so

where was the filling 

when you stepped outside 


not outside of yourself 

that is insanity 

that would be like 

like

stepping outside of the box

and looking for your thoughts

mad thoughts would look

for mad thoughts 

would

‘nt 

you think


‘nt ‘nt ‘nt ‘nt 

the cube of ‘nt is a box

cornered by it

by the square root of it

is real insanity 

don’t you think

careful thoughts are safer

kept inside the box

with you inside the box

inside of you inside the box

don’t even think it

don’t ask

if the first step outside

was one giant leap for …


well time’s up

there you go

back into your box

NOW!




meccano

 meccano 


the spanners 

so small they hurt small fingers

the small holes frowning

in the coloured beams

concentration

sliding like loose hinges

over-oiled with frustration

making something 

a rainy day didn’t need

clattering

sometimes

on the floor

both of us


damages due

 damages due


in making life

it assaults the earth

in making the earth 

it assaults life

Tuesday 15 June 2021

Suits and ties

 Suits and ties


The noon of the Kardomah boys, sitting there;

note their notes, handed and palmed; there,

waiting on the edge, the microphone

intussuscepted of their desires to say

what they know in the listening, 

and in their trussed looks,

that a day is laying down a time,

when time was short, after the war.

Words were trusted then, offered in condolence 

for the impertinence of the hurting times.

A moment in the Grove’s groove of recording,

speaking it as a gospel; 

their opinions as fresh as blood in lemon juice.


Hush, the moment is about to start,

to move into an irretrievable goneness;

for even in this painting there is a timed loop.

We see what has gone, all those light years ago

when men did these things and got away with it.

Their spent being our reward to lay aside as treasure.

Our chests swell with a pride they would deride,

yet there they are; the Kardomah boys,

although their graves have daisies now.


Look at them, how could one not love their sartorial inelegance?

Resplendent in their reverie. In their suits and ties they died,

and all we have is their works. The gems of their firmament 

held in the fix of a pigment of the artist’s talent to say.


That’s what they might have said - if.

Monday 14 June 2021

the jellyfinish

 the jellyfinish 


the jellyfish ate half a moon

four blue moons ~ a sandy spoon

bit half my hand 

when i was swimming grand

a fright right in mid stroke across

the bay where it lay ~ a dead loss now

the moon rose falsifying it all

look at it in enthral 

that summer time was

just this like this

and more

Sunday 13 June 2021

away with your valediction

 away with your valediction 


for the one who has left

for although death’s door is closed 

to any more today they will insist

to valedict about her now just gone

but let the thought be

  would she pretend to take

the sad goodbyes that she

did oft proclaim herself

and chilled at the thought 

of receiving back ten fold

the solemnity heaped upon

their going shoulders that

bore life no better when alive

yet preferred to solemnise 

on others 

baring the hard thought that

one day slipped of the lanyard life

she would sail away ablaze with 

probity pressing the pyre ship

deep into the closeting sunset

as the penitents turn away for 

theirs like yours will for another day

decide to say or not to say goodbye 

for although we all die

perhaps tomorrow my pocket will

be more ready to accept your coin

until then i ask over and over 

am i gone 

or do linger on

on viewing a Cornell

 on viewing a Cornell


and did you escape in one piece

or did one piece of you remain 

and in that lingering of there draw

voodoo-like a framing down

around a silent rattling scream

~

oh look mummy there there see

there is a funny man in there 

i like him he’s just like my doll

Saturday 12 June 2021

summer morning

 summer morning 

in the mist he

missed tea

the fog swirled 

into the saucer 

the hot sun shone

winked at the pouring

just a sip of a sparkle

and the morning

brewed nicely

sipped slowly

buttercups 

and daisies 

days

a dirge for dylan

a dirge for dylan 


lights grew in the curled poet round

who said such things in a bloody town

and long may those ways abound

that set for the future the past laid down


all the bent of youth abound

to say the points of order of those days

and proudly push the lines around

with pencils that mapped the many ways


that certitude cuddled in muddled beer

that blew the smoke rings wet and bar

none were raised in laughing cheers

for the man of words had turned the far


pavilions of the chewed and crowded words

intoxicated by the juice of lines

flowing rancid were the morning lords

of misruled nights and many spitting tines


that raked the cockled bays to feed

and filter meaning of vagabond thought

to twist the tail of the devil led

to a magic flowing yet costly bought


by a soul sold to the devil-cultured verse

paid by age laid down far too soon

the winsome knife on which the hearse

fell swift and buried crossed and white by moon

and all still genuflect to youth laid down

by a poet from that ugly lovely seaside town