clearing

 clearing

in a clearing in the fearful

danced the blues around the mauve

butterflies and sea lavender 

have nestled in my mind

the way is clear

the plan is set

and yet and yet

words sdrow

 words sdrow 

at the edge of reason’s field

there is a barbed wire fence

test the constrained words to destruction 

generically modify them

let the wind disperse them

let genetic and generic trade places

exchange the chromosomes of minds

for either side of the page

are infinite universes

corr my rant

 corr my rant

i exclaimed into the air

to the surf pounding there

how my weighty words were blown away

white horses on the east wind’s spray

how your shiny feathers fish

for compliments on outstretched wings

dive and and and resurface this

is how our mother nature sings

words sdrow

 words sdrow 

at the edge of reason’s field

there is a barbed wire fence

test the constrained words to destruction 

generically modify them

let the wind disperse them

let genetic and generic trade places

exchange the chromosomes of minds

for either side of the page

are infinite universes

RS Thomas

 RS Thomas

like a startled rabbit

in the headlights of his words

one stands transfixed

try as you will

you are doomed by his words

to see yourself

in the cult of the weatherbeaten

in the rush of time stood still

silliness?

 silliness?

stand still

and the spirit will move you 

move

and stillness departs

follow stillness 

and you will never find it

wait for stillness

and you will find it 

waiting for you

wish me luck

 wish me luck 

dress them in a uniform and they will fight

play stirring marches and they will march

bury them with honour as the volleys ring out

boldly statue them on bloody plinths

brass their names on white crosses

the tomb of the unknown war

is full of the tears of youth

all is bastardised

without a shadow of a doubt

 without a shadow of a doubt

she asked

opening a box

does light flow in 

or darkness flow out 

these is a shadow of a doubt

no doubt you disagree

so

does a shadow follow me

or do i drag my shadow

answer me

the source of light of course

emits shadows

fills boxes with darkness

it’s a game we play

as we laugh away our days

a late encounter

 a late encounter

the fox

stealing his way around the field

locks eyes with the scarecrow

both a little tattered these days

one from the sad winds

the other from the foraging of

thoughts unknown to the plow

that turned the stones of time and again

as the moon halts on just one lame tear

rain

 rain 

it

is

slowly

incessant 

the rain

this morning

refreshing

every

flower’s

long

sunny 

day

again 

the rain

rains

again

upon reading a poem by natalie shapero

 upon reading a poem by natalie shapero

well there you go

you gone and poemed me

good and proper

killded me stone dead in my tracks 

wandering along your road of thought 

when bam

your train of thought hit me like a cow-catcher

pinioned i was

opinionated i was

when you switched the points

and derailed me

a summer morning in suburbia

 a summer morning in suburbia

drenching drizzle

clotted cream

strawberry jam

a summer’s dream

the cat’s in the garden

chewing grass

the silly bugger’s 

got a wet arse

pour the coffee

pour the tea

the sun will come out later

just you wait and see

retro introspective

 retro introspective 

this retrospective 

it ain’t going at all well

all the poems are dreadful

incomplete and incoherent 

with all the longevity of insouciance 

all the poetic machinery 

of a derelict colliery

the canary is dead

roll up the newspaper 

and swot that fly

off the husks of yesterday

more climate change

 more climate change 

the mores of our childhoods are no more

the days of blossoming are given over to nostalgia 

the children ask what are mores

for their mores are not ours any more 

and they do not yet realise that time

seems to be as plastic as the microcosms of now

in the macrocosm of eternity

in your midsummer crown

 in your midsummer crown

you look to be waiting at the mystical gate of time

a faerie dawn through the dewy mists

where for a moment just a moment

the children call come and play

and the fields part their welcome

the sun pollens 

the grasses tickle

is that a tear or the sun mist’s doubloon 

count to a hundred

coming ready or not

simile

 simile 

the word is smile

smile the word

that told how

it always should be

you write for me

and i’ll write for you

if you follow me

as i follow you

the way of the poet

the way of the muse

going that extra simile

for me and for use