Saturday, 16 June 2018

the poem

the poem insists we write it
it asks us to fill its pockets with
the child’s treasured things
the old man’s tobacco
the lady’s damp handkerchief
the whole of the sea and sky
and when we are lost it says
look
look and remember 
this is who you are

languish in anguish

a blue jellyfish bruising memory
 stinging at a lonely heart
red as a claw buried in the craw
 down where the tears start

the tunnel has been tolerated 
 look has arrived at tomorrow 
where pains are pinned like butterflies
 camphorated in drawers of sorrow

stripped bare of a tomb-like lethargy
 and shivering with thwarted desire
we drink of the spring of sunshine 
  that sets the uplands afire

then the memories sleep 
  ayes close eyes
if only says the past
  we had smelled this summer rose

Tuesday, 12 June 2018

Monday, 11 June 2018

high tea

dew-eyed and streaming golden
from an old black-hearted pot
assam or maybe darjeeling 
brewing yar thar brouhaha
on a thousand summer days
high-tea on the foothills
of a cake-stand’s doily sky
basket chairs tilted straw hats
and bees that jam 
and jazz and jazz and then
zzz and zzz and zzz
while all the afternoon a while
the dandelion clocks 
tick tock tick tock 

Saturday, 9 June 2018

still sitting still

i just made friends with a hover-fly
who landed on my palm
then he sat upon my knee
we meant each other no harm
and of course he saw off all the other flies 
which was very nice for me
i like these nature stories
when it’s warm and summery 
but he’s gone now
he’s gone to die
pity

the thrush

what was it that sang
under a foundling moon
that when i answered back
all hell was loosed
and prerogative strode
down the throat of dusk
until the silver birch all defused in lullaby 
and the sleepy stars tinkled down the day
until silence reigned in the owl breath night
and the door closed

Wednesday, 6 June 2018

girls

look at this photo in the album,
you petulant pubescent girl.

mum, dad and 
a teeny weeny baby. 

we’ve come a long way,
together;
don’t spoil it.

tomorrow is yours,
we don’t want it;
we won’t change it;
you can have it your way. 

but don’t spoil it - eh?