summertime
this contentment
is like the edge of longing for yesterday
when what was to be was rounding the corner
the knowing that whatever came would be good
and the sun would forestall every tear
sunshine upon the bees of summer
busy in the making of honey days and high teas
and tennis on the lawns of long evenings
of such contentment as will last a lifetime of winters
the pollen a mist under a high sun
and summer only just begun
i have something in my eye
i have something in my eye
floods of tears wash the tides of see
was ever a grain of truth so painful
lies the perfect balm
lies do no harm
close your ayes
say nothing to upset
the equilibrium of tears
or they will flow again
and the galaxy is blurry enough
close the lid
don’t you dare think that
annealed from the furnace
to the anvil’s hammer
the words were bent
they never meant
to place the pennies on dead eyes
but is was a closure
they said
is what they always say
when they read the last will and testament
they learn what was really meant
what is left unread
in bequeathing
one’s last breath becomes rancid
every one backs off
slowly
what didn’t rhyme dances
sits where the table is labelled
with a name tag once removed
what is this light that plays over everything
the stained glass that speaks
he wasn’t
then he was
now he’s gone
don’t you think
don’t you dare think
that
man oh man
the grip of mammon imprisoned me
death released me
all the unreachable gods
are gone away
quite unrequited
some words stay forever
in the grip of mammon
some are sent
from the other side of reason
does a prison look worse
from the inside or outside
for i have lost the key
to the stories of stone
the queen
through all of the mottled times
the inviolability of your nobility
royal from balmoral to the windsor
of britain’s multicultural soup
‘gentlemen the queen’
has rung down the ages
through all the wars and the strife
she was also a wife
through the pages of her family album
torn a little in sepia perhaps
slipping a little our image of those images
scion an anachronism
at the end of the knighting sword
and yet good lord
we have the elegance of her regency
the white gloves asking of power
can you form a government
on behalf of my people
i give you permission
to kiss hands
the moist eyes of the people
look at the union jack bunting fluttering
and how we cheer her to the rafters
for all our family ever afters
she has always been there
uniquely ours
ladies and gentlemen i give you
her majesty the queen
let the children feast
for beth ~ hope you are bether soon
rest up
get well soon
how easily it is said
however sincere
it doesn’t help much
i lost my voice in the sea a while ago
felt very miserable
i found it later on the shoreline
it had been on an adventure
now it is back we’re on speaking terms
it hurts ~ then you laugh again
blister popper’s thumb
blister popper’s thumb
he’s got blister popper’s thumb
the tablet packs
are as hard as jacks
he’s got blister popper’s thumb
between 9:26 & 10:26
between 9:26 & 10:26 the painting is arriving
the courier sent a text so there it is
maybe
the timelessness of art arriving on time
an abstract view of the sea
we’ll soon see it hanging
i do hope we like it
i am sure we will in time
if it arrives on time
did the artist paint it in time
or out of a timeless imagination
so many questions to ask
the delivery driver who
will not see it unpacked
there’s no time you see
he’s in a rush to deliver on time
for this blank wall time is up
hey up the door bell
the estuary at low water
naked
the secrets are drying in snake
worms are going deeper and deeper
the crusty bits are dead
not even the long sky laments the turning
tides never stopping for a moment
their peregrinations pose
more questions than answers
it is a slippery time
for footsteps
closing in
BANG
the cat explodes
outside the door
the visitor backs away
the howling growling subsides
my pulse rate returns to normal
ohh pussy cat
i do wish you wouldn’t do that
here
have some food
the cat explodes
outside the door
the visitor backs away
the howling growling subsides
my pulse rate returns to normal
ohh pussy cat
i wish you wouldn’t do that
here
have some food
after breakfast
to my right
gentle string music by haydn
on my left
the cat is sleeping on a sigh
out front
a breeze is rearranging the garden
my mind hanging
mid-space in this breakfast room
on the last sip of earl grey
a flower
a shrub
a bush
a small tree
a big tree
the wooded
distance
the stone pagoda says nothing
just seems content to wait
upon my arrival
the scene gathers around me
and i flip the book around and say look
what do you think of these words
then
squidgy or sharp ?????
step on a poem
is it squidgy or sharp
did you see it before you stepped in it
or was it covered up in leaves
here is a stanza stick to
scape out those words
fling the bling
or treasure the leather of a brogue in shine
for it was mine
i left it there
please put it in a plastic bag
along with the end of the world
frozen shit will cut your anus
squidgy or sharp ?????
own up !!!!!
how do you like it
where does the rainbow sleep
in the second mirror
i see the first mirror
reflecting the trees
in the first mirror
i see the second mirror
reflecting the trees
the rain has stopped
both mirrors agree
with the trees
all their tears have dropped
the grass is steaming
the rainbow asks the reflection
what is refraction
and when does it sleep
it seemed tired and lost
but it was all an illusion
silence
the length of silence is deceiving
its depth unfathomable
a deaf wind outside a rumour
trees dripping into a pool
the mere breath of a breeze
unwinds the telomere of time
to raise one’s eyes
up and down on repeating breaths
again silence is not a thought
but an absence
the present time is as illusive
as silence is a sentence
of just one word
is
how soon is too soon
the war graves
they move me to think
that i know of no one who died in a war
not personally in a way that weeps
death to me is dead
at a loss for words
for no pain pushes pen
to inscribe
born in peace
died in action
there are so many that we forget
we lose count
no need to start again
soon the waiting will be over
a misty dawn on the fens
hushed and once a golden breath is held
across the fen fields of a mist’s daybreak
and see that path there it’s the one i’ll take
for there is no one where the corners meld
save the moving of the mist bare perceived
the slow slowly straightening of the reed
as the dampness runs from the rising sun
the adventure of a day has thus begun
the royals
in the uniform of a unicorn
they have crossed the rubicon
feast your eyes on this ribaldry
when all i see is the food bank’s rivalry
it’s over for you you anachronistic monarchy
your everlasting plutocracy
has lost the populace’s embrace
and i’ll say this to your face
for god’s go
it is time to go
the door to the cellar is open
there is no dark deed
given a circumstance
that i would not do
that realisation seared me
slit my smile bloodwards
yet it left the blandishments
as an incense upon the air
oh no not me
they easily say
oh no
not i
not me
oh no
calm down i say
if you say no then i believe you
at this point in time
for
not everyone can self-analyse
the dark corners where no candle stays
to flicker give an even chance
but
no
the profound black is metaphysical
a hand that reaches will clasp a dagger
a hand reaching will clasp a throat
a bomb blast lights up
an unmarked grave
no
profound black is a taste
a bilious retching
a hand upon the zip
of the brain stem’s basal ganglia
so you would never
would you not
well take away every social handrail
deluge your minutes in tortuous assault
open every nerve ending
close every conscious thought
drink the autonomic emotions
that escape upon the wings of war
after one thousand cuts
you will stop at nothing
to stop everything
now
you say you still would not succumb
well i would
look out behind you
for i have looked behind me
inside of me
and there was no one there
to stop me
there is no light switch in the coal cellar
the enamel has splintered far and wide
reducing me smaller than the deadliest spider
for now i know that if i was there
i would
anthracite is hard to hand
but its flames are very hot
throw me another look
as i stand stock still
throw me another of your looks
for if looks could kill
yours surely will