YB

 YB

‘why be at all’

a question to someone ‘who is’

from someone ‘who is’

anyone ‘who isn’t’ can answer

but no one ever does

if the question is shouted 

someone always shouts back

will you ‘be’ quiet

on the coast path

on the coast path

grey pours the ladle

that pours o’er the weed

pawing the pebbles

you know how we need

this path to sea

this path to our swim

that is laid by the feet

of those going in

there be the shallows

the weed swaying to and fro

in the shadows an anemone 

and things for your toe

that lift up your spirits

of mind from the mire

long falls to eye

to a sky that’s on fire

curved curves the path

from this bay to that

so early in the morning

sheer bliss sheer bliss

to swim with the dew

that you had on your toes

under the gorse to the bay

and so it goes so it goes

take me again

take me once more

to swim down a memory 

of sand on my toe

and i will stay where you buried

that sandman of old

and may it be told

how that old man of the sea

behold it was me

oh yes 

it was me 

menu and you

 menu and you

yet the poems come

and like a hot potatoes

we drop them in place

the menu is ours 

but the cook is a dream

the waiter seems nice

but the thank-you beer

is sent into the kitchen 

you might be fed up with the reviews

but you gotta admit it

the cook IS good

you got me all fired up now

 you got me all fired up now

yes

it’s all over

the majority are on the back burner 

denial is simmering 

it’s thinning gruel 

yes

life can be this cruel

we are all in the crematorium now

asking

who will scatter my ashes

what was my carbon footprint 

in the tarmac of this road to ruin

and just look how scorched my shroud is

says the crowd 

well yes

exactly

St Peter’s Chapel

St Peter’s Chapel

well fancy that 

was a chapel 

then from nowhere’s garden he appeared 

there was stained glass there 

the old man offered pointing out probably 

heaven’s gate they called it

his confidence confided

and that was the door there

we can see it we said

finding his confidence

followed by our question 

  and the well 

up here  hidden  his confidence strode 

dragging our light-footed uncertainty

there it is

and believe me the water is pure

if you avoid scooping up the silt

  our spring babbled 

how quiet it all is

the congregation seems to be the trees

the paths our common prayer

look how

when we arrived

the light slanted in just so 

  the light he mused 

yes the light he mused

stained glass i said

not one held-breath disagreed

what a nice man

amen

a right royal banquet for ‘them’

 a right royal banquet for ‘them’

there is something incongruous

is there not

about a banquet 

in the multifarious manifestations 

of these troubled times 

you have lost the plot

my toast to you all

your wine is their blood

your bread their body

they are begging you

but you are broken bread

and they are dead

cheers citizens

and pass the port

a sepia seaside snap

 a sepia seaside snap

and if you called them ‘nostalgia’ 

they would have given you a quizzical look

yet now we are the nostalgia of tomorrow’s children 

sand in the ebbing tide between wrinkled toes 

and so goes these tides of thought 

surely 

you must remember when

so and so

note my king

 note my king

king

has a ring

of inauthenticity 

a chink that dulls

the porcelain 

of democracy

on the skyline

of a lifeline

so far from mine

feasting

for the starving

crumbs of comfort

on a throne

all alone

we refuse to bow

rejecting 

genuflecting

this eleven inch ruler

cuckold

in his household

so full of fission 

is it time 

for that big decision

not my king

or anyone else

for that matter

not

the prince of wails 

roaring

 roaring

they flapped

but could not fly

then came the war

to end all wars

they drank dance

ravine

 ravine

arising from the oceans of our past

rain is gathering over the mountains 

glacial of time in time

it futures through us

shivering of ghosts

streaming

deep-darkening the suns

of the lost days

one fish in a shoal of silver tongues

saying by saying

says

how high is the sky

above the red bridge

the sun comes out

life warms slightly