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Sunday, 31 August 2014

Airborne Consciousness

An urge somehow to contact a part of me, what part I don't truly know, but to contact a part of me with a part of someone other

By contact I mean a closeness, the sort of closeness that the word intertwined leads me towards; minds, bodies, souls, breath, intertwined, in contact, a closeness

Yet in this one room, with it's lustre and patterned wallpaper, how is it possible to transport or transfer anything more than voice or image or words written, how is it possible to soak wilfully into some other body

The key might rest in excitement, I stroke my body, there is an excitement, an energy that I link to another's body, to another's facial expressions. The excitable mind might be the basis of our transmissions

With my eyes closed I can visualise a rose, a deep red rose set against a black and silver mesh and denier backdrop

These connections are of passion, imaginations of Eros delivered through symbolic imagery that lays the forces of sensuality bare with expectation

Are these transmissions received, is anyone, anywhere in receipt of this hyper-power, are these super signals within received from any other transmission than ones own mind, soul, brain, body or ego

What is possible?
I set out to sleep with transference in mind, goodnight



Saturday, 30 August 2014

Dark and White

The word I chose was egress
The word you chose was egret
Both had a part to play in departure
Both played some part in recovery

Fortune favours those who depart
Whether with or without their will
Fortune plays her part
As they sit on the window cill
In search of all but doubt

The word I chose is neat
Petite yet swell
It tells me I've told you
The rest can go to hell

The word you chose
Will be from a wider vocabulary
Likely carry more gravitas
Yet, as this night draws in

I believe that words are our solace
& that this truth goes for the all of us


Friday, 29 August 2014

Treads

The silence of symbiosis carries me
I float in and out of presence
I lose conscious weight
Through acts of unconscious removal

I take hold of sense
Intense with sensibilities 
The light fades
My warmth wraps me

Good thoughts sprinkle their dust
It is the all of all oneness
The I, that is able to reconnoitre
To have discourse with a wider world


Thursday, 28 August 2014

Call-Out

It is the time to traverse through dusk
Aeroplanes head out east and west
Souls return from northern
& southern pastures

Time for an artisans sojourn
To hear the sheep bah
Bah behind the coo-coo of pigeon
Bah-bah beneath the croak of crow

Bah at the very moment that silence
Engulfed the meadow
Bah, for the endless search of mother
Bah for the nearby fade of light


Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Beethoven

The multi-coloured
Rice paper tetrahedrons
Roll throughout my dreams
Their presence brings
A lightness, a gaiety
To familiar tales of lust
And strayed relationships


Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Mary (Montbretia)

Beautiful petals
Drawn into focus
Risen out of peat lands
To furnish the lakeside

Hear then her whispers
As she bends against the breeze
Listen to her mellow cries
Untold absence is her disease


Monday, 25 August 2014

Outlines & Structures

There are many sketches of faces
Layered in vertical and horizontal arrays
On his video the artist talked of movement
His sculptures bring his words to life

The guide says it’s too late to go there today
She says this many times, at many bus-stops
Right now we are outside the Scottish Parliament
We are told it won the Stirling prize for architecture

I myself think it disjointed and emblazoned
With all kinds of frippery, some of which I now
Learn is meant to be representative of open
Government; drawn curtains and the like!


Sunday, 24 August 2014

Before the Riots

There is much to be done
Sufficient work for everyone
But first to rebuild the spirit
Energise; engage with all

Some to work with hedgerows
Some to work with books
Work together in towns and cities
Working alone with claws and hooks

Everyone to find their own self
Yet encompass communal pride
Everyone in congregation
With time for their solitary side

Some to work in organisation
Some to simply do
Good to work becomes the ethic
Also to grow and prosper too

Strive towards the good life
Quality to be indigenously bound
Everywhere then aimed at pleasure
Fresh life for sights and sounds

Some to bring on excellence
Some to support and aid
Work of a thousand varieties
With reward truly and fairly paid

The deluded ramblings of a working class Yorkshireman who believes attention to detail and commitment to aesthetic beauty would solve our countries lot


Saturday, 23 August 2014

I As You

To live the two lives
In the one life
To daydream of that face
While we sojourn in this place

To race no more
The chase left for others
Let the door swing
Follow the older brothers

But roses still grow
& summer brings flowers
The love-wish which we throw
Is so sprinkled with showers


Friday, 22 August 2014

Hallgarth in August

The lights are out, the power is down, rain beats it's way through the trees. The tittle tattle of a thousand and one creatures is silenced. A perfect time for contemplation, let my meditation CD begin. I’ve listened until my toes tingled, and for sure there were a couple of power naps along the way.

The rain is gone, the traffic returns, the railway too, but not yet any sight, or sound, of the power.


Thursday, 21 August 2014

Seersucker

Soft blue sky
Warm winds breeze
Too enticing to leave
Time to plunge
To swim in Cleethorpes sea

Mother and daughter
Wet and wild and free
Twist their cotton garments
As my mother used to wring
The washing, back in 1963


Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Relinquish

Your hands on the wheels
My eyes slowly closed
Sat by your side

The aroma of warm rapeseed
Hits me in the instant
That we judder to a standstill

How then to let the eyes close again
Unable to trust my own instincts
Unsure of future cloudless skies


Monday, 18 August 2014

Inevitable Decay

The teenage boys have gone
The girls soon followed on
All that the parents can say
The young fathers are away too

All thats left here, in this place
Are the wasted-today cobwebs
Of King Coal’s once fortune zoo



Sunday, 17 August 2014

Swollen

In that time
To fall for the fallen
Thus stolen our life
Simmered with fear

Fallen for the fallen
All pain forsaken
With the final chance
Unable to reappear


Saturday, 16 August 2014

No Need To Ask

One morning
Any one morning
Even this one
Where the damp air
Does not dampen the spirit

& why should that not be
After a dream of such 
Gentle physical love
Shared without need
Gifts with pleasure given


Friday, 15 August 2014

The Pen May Relate A Quieter Tale

Of a kind drafted in beach huts
Where a cooler breeze might
Steal the heat of this moment

The heat of this ever so slightly
Overdone mind & body
Standing beside the railway tracks 

As if, now again, back
In that workers boarding house
Deep in the suburbs of Plymouth

Or the B&B up on the Somerset levels
Where, into that faraway place
The roll and rattle faded to nought

Tonight it is as if the twenty-one
Thousand days and nights
Were also as good as gone


Thursday, 14 August 2014

Cusps

In this late time
At the time to welcome night
A universal sense of quiet
A quiet so easily welcomed
Taken at ease
As taken so many times before

A mirrored light reflected
Layers in the quarter bevelled
Ochres, khakis; washed out
Greens and gradients
Washed onto shores
Of pleasant past times
Into unexpected leave

Circled by bays
Perspex, held
To capture hidden
Ultra festive light
A mercurial feel of calm
A calm so simply claimed
Set aside, unbroken
As woken, so often, and no more


Wednesday, 13 August 2014

Fabled Unable

The fear, the recognition looming
Is to achieve naught
That is to leave this life without
Having reached out or touched 
Life at the edges
To have read 
The Picture of Dorian Grey
But not to have learnt or understood


Tuesday, 12 August 2014

Gel

I scratch the imaginary surface
Of this spherical agglomeration
Of imaginary nothingness

A space, or repository, formed
By no more than a few deft hand-
Turns and rolling wrist gestures

I am reminded of the mathematics
Of non-Euclidean space
And of Jung's collective unconscious

Theorems always showed the miserable
Limits to my intellectual capacity
Here again I am undone

Instead to write of love and loss
Or love and joy, I engulf myself in the
Wobbly blancmange of indecipherable airs


Monday, 11 August 2014

Wordy Expression

Bus terminals and ticket collections
Endless queues, recurring themes
Always make the same mistake
Again; again without doubt
The red light is aglow
Erogenous
All dreams head
This way it seems
A full-on brown sea
A fuller grey, grey sky
The horizon is lost in mist
Rain beats on the pavement
Today the pier is to be deserted
Crazy golf similarly so abandoned
It is a large room with grand windows
The ingrained tea tray is set with biscuits
I ruminate on the eleven plus examination
It was the high point of my educational life
Thereafter failure on an immense scale
Prior to self excused absconding
On a fairly regular basis


Sunday, 10 August 2014

Half-Way Precise

I meditate
For the one who is
And for the one who is not

I bring a prayer to both
For the one who offers peace
And for the one where lays the ache

In the calm time of rising
I offer to carry their moments
As I imagine a tiller would plant his corn

There on my shoulders
Their vessels are balanced
On the knotted pole that gently rocks

We are together in absence
After many aggregates of time
On journeys now to where quietness sways

I leave this place
This space of the morning
Take my meditation, out into the day

I have hope to dream again
Come the breakthrough of light
Between this day and the day after tomorrow


Saturday, 9 August 2014

Flip-Side

Elegant minimalist words
Clean sans-serif font
Environmentally inspired
Forest management

Slouch
On the chaise-lounge
After a full English
With extra toast


Friday, 8 August 2014

Roll

By page six
You have used
The d word twice
I notice this

Because I too have the d
Like, like, like
As if
As if you cared

For the surf dude
So slim, so sublime
As he rides, strides

The light fantastic
On the rolling crests 

Yet for the first time 
I understand
The need for
Techniques at play

The twists
The forceful skips

Even the neatness
To step aside

Before our wave is spent


Thursday, 7 August 2014

Fog

The vacuum cleaner masks the raging sea
The days cleaning awakened in earnest
Guests that pour out into the rain
The b&b landladies expectation

To be blown right off the pier
Take pictures for relation
Ships that pull closer
Over and out


Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Gentleman

A change in deportment
Ever so slightly withheld 
A feign to the existential

A well-practiced hand gesture
A gentle slow-roll of the wrist
Waves the ladies on through


Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Half-Beat

Slow down, almost to a stop
No please, keep walking
Kick the pebble, with nonchalance
From the tar-macadam pavement
Onto the miserable dried-out grass verge




Monday, 4 August 2014

Duty Free

Polished tiles bounce the silence
Amplify & amplify again
The still sounds of nothing

Except the smile
Of the small boys excitement
As his father
Shows him the big aeroplanes


This poem is from the collection 

Sunday, 3 August 2014

Out of Sun

Pebbles picked
Picked & inspected
By the young woman
In azure-blue bikini

Pebbles picked
Picked & inspected
As though all of life itself
Had been washed ashore

Easy to be romantic
Blue sky, gentle waves
Reflected warmth, from
Worn-away sandstone pillars

In the speedboats jet-stream
Hang the plumes of destiny
A race of sorts
From here to there, or thereabouts

One deep and final breath
Beneath the Faberge shade
Negligence would be, would it not
To be unfaithful to beauty & love


This poem is from the collection 

Saturday, 2 August 2014

Ocean

As you edge in
You also edge out
Take steady steps
To gather a focus


This poem is from the collection 

Friday, 1 August 2014

Shaded Steps

Many times before & once again
Sky blue, blue white
Deepest blue
An ink line of horizon

Lesser blues, on their way
To the fond greens of the Atlantic Ocean
Past the canary yellow buoys
& the purer whites of the speedboats

Which momentarily create a spray
Whose colour is no more
Than the colour of clear water
Blasted into suspension


This poem is from the collection