contemplation of an artists website
this is art to become fearfully lost in
for the desire to return is also lost
upon contemplation of a realisation
that within your eye and the burnished
brows of becca’s brush strokes
lies a true revisioning
a reappointing of focus upon
the arrival of a lost belonging
or twice
once
my late father told me
how he and doug used to laugh and sing
and how once
when they were working in a church
they saw a poor church mouse
so they feted it with cheese
placed under the huge pulpit bible
propped up with a stick and string
with a long wait
he never said if the mouse entered heaven
but boy did they laugh
book six
where the fabled child was lost
and found nothing
that could be put into words where
thereafter bore no resemblance to before
except for an excitement that a
teller of tales had cause to write
and we wonder if
social media ~ just a moment
a moment is defined
by what went before
and by what may come after
but in that moment
there are no thoughts
of before or after
it is a vacuole
in the continuum
of thought
that came to me this very moment
before i read what you said
after what i said
well you all know
where this moment of inertia
is pointing at
autumn web
all the baby words
glowing
rushing in every direction
until the husk of the poem is left
degaussed of attraction
ten thousand new webs form
trapping ten thousand readers
but you knew that didn’t you
you said we would say that
and so we do
a poem fattens upon its readers
and
flattered by a pregnant pause
it is springtime again
the glass cabinet
infant school’s first lesson
there were drums in the music cabinet
they gave me the triangle
to ding ding ding listen
the world is a shop window
and you have not the mental money
and yet ……… ding !
come back
oh come back to my past
and ride a three wheeler with me
i’ll call you by another name
and you can call me silly
but its not silly is it
please say it isn’t
to peddle a dream
an old dream of a young love
but it wasn’t you
was it?
