over the tips

 over the tips

after the dig

a broken shard whites

in the light of day again

we read

‘marmalade’

or a shred of that name

over breakfast we discus

this thread from the midden earth

the tang of past tastes

in our grubby hands again

trowel 

just like larkin’s mower

just like larkin’s mower

it’s the same with a slow worm 

mercury tears running

headless 

stunned into immobility 

the mower silent

the will to restart stalled

what now 

pale and belly up 

the day vesiculates

turning away to sit it out

a grand design destroyed 

and you did it

RS Thomas ruminated

 RS Thomas ruminated 

he forgot 

did he not

the illusion of original sin

that made the conundrum 

that made the unravelling 

seem to be the answer

pray no 

pray rather for a prayer 

that is divest of ego

at the sharp edge of toppling

grasp at that

and hang on for dear life

the answer is on its way

i read this dread

 i read this dread

i am frightened by this

does time stop at the end of the world

don’t know and don’t know why

but i’m afraid of this

the cogs don’t fit

and all that shit

unable therefor to run away

from the magnetism

the broken light in the prism

fragmented you said

i’m sore afraid that this would happen

snappen kraken blacken

all the kings’s horses

all the king’s men

cannot put me together again

kiddo

blood

 blood

how many swear words

are brushed into this painting

run your fingers over the hardened paint

just wait ‘till i get you home

another poem by

 another poem by

RS Thomas

how often his poems hold you

there in disbelief 

dumbstruck 

turning his words

over and over

but it never is

or will be

but somehow

we turn his page 

for him

and we fall out

autumn morn

 autumn morn

then

a rustle in the leaves 

there’s something 

in 

there 

                points >>>

the dog cocks her head

the cat crouches 

it’s a breeze

across 

my coffee and croissant 

sunlight soft

on closed eyes

inhale

there …

neolithic cave drawing

 neolithic cave drawing

palm to palm 

pass the past

a port in the storm

of the time when she drew

the dark around her

singing in the candlelight

the chase was on

down all the caves of hunting

an explanation for it all

dearth called for breakfast

 dearth called for breakfast 

at the breakfast table

a dearth of the dead

they were toast 

that wouldn’t stay down

the curse of the un-bread

the pallor of the pollarded

partly dead the party gathered

incensed by thoughts

burnt by offence

beating the table with their knives

beat  beat  beat

the food of the braying mob

was a fast breaking 

trust me i was there

the zombie with aplomb

back silvered back

 back silvered back

what mirror doesn’t insist

that you come back 

just to be sure

that a different you

is taken away

the receipts on the spike

grow as tall as the stories

in this house of mirrors

the lie is reflected

back and forth 

a perpetually adjusted tie

editing

 editing

is that splat dross

or the icing on the cake

leave it

there

lick your fingers

mmmm the muse

the muse

 tornado

those poor cars those poor cars

• video

a scene on the ganges is described

 a scene on the ganges is described

is this the real world
at the end of a path of words
overhung with expectation 
a scene unfolds in disbelief 
and yet he says he saw it
just as described
i do so want to believe
for then i can plan to go there
and replay the words into the river’s wind
the sunset’s solitude
and kneel there
momentarily

gasp

 gasp

you can’t speak without breathing

for air is free speech

you cannot write a poem without the muse

who comes uninvited and without a fee

if you stop speaking or writing until you are paid

you will smother creativity 

and maybe

just maybe 

i will never return

it said 

chaplet

 chaplet 

on lengthening vines

all  the  rest  less 

birds of summer

talk is of going south

of following the old birds

their taste tales of Africa

with their tails in the air

are you ready 

steady …

twittering

overwintering

the cat’s dog days

 the cat’s dog days

a cat stalks

the sun

in the lavender stalks

it all talks of

the dog days of summer

that have been seen off

how the words fall 

that have seen it all

the cat twirls three times

and dozes off