Sunday, 30 November 2014


Sheer excitement
Let me name it laudable (or laughable)
Excited by a telephone number
With a recognisable area code

What right have I
Still to make connections
Are you there?
Is anybody there

The black and white keys
Stroked with such certainty
Sure of a lighter mood, yet
Mindful of a minor refrain

As the hall doorway opens
All cobwebs are dusted
By the flight of her body
In search of the handset

Saturday, 29 November 2014

Faith Wrap

Into and out of the darkness
Only briefly to sidle up
To the edge-lines of paranoia

Still to search out beauty
In the scentless black tulip
Still to wonder on truth
In the words of named poets

Into, again into, the pleasures
All hours to dream & daydream
On sounds of pianos and minarets

Friday, 28 November 2014

Past Present Echoes

All to hear
The ears ring
The wind blows
The pen scrapes the paper
The only connection
Is within

Within these words
Words only of our pasts
Our present futures
Where do they go to
My lovely

All to hear
The ears ring quietens
The wind blows louder
The pen pauses for breath
The only connection
Remains within

Thursday, 27 November 2014

Trains And Thoughts And Dames

I woke at six to be with you
To be with you in spirit
In spirit as you travelled
Travelled to your friends

I woke fair slow to leave
To leave the dreams of you
Dreams of you quietly giving me
Giving me your telephone number

I could call
I could text
We could engage
In simple conversation

For after all
Whatever’s next
If all we maintain
Is self preservation

Home at seven to write of you
To write of you on your cold 
On your cold dark journey

From seven to eleven quite how to say to you
Quite how to say to you, thanks for giving me
Thanks for giving me your telephone number

Wednesday, 26 November 2014


Free from intrusion
Able to write

Take myself off
Into that other place
A journey
Eased by welcome

Eyes closed
Posture restful
Without defence

Warm paths
Just before autumn
The love of I love you
On sand

I cannot bring
The word to mind
This happens
More often now

If only the Machair scanned
That would have got me off the hook

...flotsam ...jetsam
Grass or pampas, pray please help me

It was all along the five mile road
Between tar-macadam and sea
The dunes, yes that’s it, the dunes

Don’t you remember
I ran down them and fell
I was totally exhilarated

Some called it love

Tuesday, 25 November 2014

Yin And Yang

All because it was unexpected
Yet already I was in the frame of mind
Up for it some would say

A good way from the karma
All pathways to the Dalai Lama
Frayed, frozen, certainly broken

All because the response was quicker than instant
Words chosen for their turgid and heavy emphasis
Pouring scorn on the non-expectant

A good way from the laughter
All pathways to the light of heart
Closed off, blocked, impertinently unspoken

Monday, 24 November 2014

We Have Someone To Do That

It is, calm
There it is, minus calm
Between the two
There is no continuum

What is broken
What might be repaired
Between the two
Some kind of officium

Sunday, 23 November 2014

Frozen Out

It is a low-cut Sunday

The newly slung autumn sun
Floods the stubble with its orange light
The fields, once fresh with crop
Are shorn; for the winter, for the plough

As lovers we slept
Under Egyptian cotton sheets
The dreams though, soon to be abridged

Saturday, 22 November 2014

Put Upon Another

Thursday lunch
Crayfish & Rocket
Watching the guy who cleans up clean up

I sit with my own frustrations
But soon I begin wondering
What are his rack-able doubts

Does he talk to himself about a past love
Is the swift sidestep
A sign of more flamboyant times

He reminds me of my own poem
The Fedora from Buena Vista
Already I hear the samba & the rhumba

Maybe he was once a galactico
On the sands of Rio de Janeiro
His sensual slipstream movements

A feel of the breeze
With the sun on your back

Friday, 21 November 2014


And mist dampened leaves
Seen as singular objects of art
A vulnerable disappointed collection
Fearful of the scathing dry winds

She promised more
A journey to a collective of joy
Life affirming bows and flexes
Eventful, as all new births are

Thursday, 20 November 2014

Eight O’Clock Rock

Sat on Herons Reach
Before I ever used the word twilight

A place away from my own place
With the sounds, with the rhythms
Of other peoples melancholy
Just to get me in the mood

Before I unroll a paper canvas
Before I open a pack of pastels
Before I retune the car stereo
& think about the lines of love

Later, around midnight; late night radio
My words moved from thought to thought
Heavens above this could be heaven, for
All of the time we have before departure

Wednesday, 19 November 2014


Geometric shapes
Pummelled & beaten
Whispered over the heads of corn

Take me there again
To where the light of time is lifted
Away from the lonely
Where what is maybe mine is gifted

Somehow global
Revolving doors
Shout across the crowded room

Let me escape
For certain as a polygon would
Eventually as only
A once regular theorem could

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Ears And Explorations

On the one line
A long path
Break it up
Break it up
Break it up

A longer story
Of shorter lines
No thoughts thought
Of dissimilar paths

Those ringing sounds of closing down
Traffic moves along the tidal causeway
Winds and rooks and once good looks
Those ringing sounds of closing down

On the one line
A long path
Break it up
Break it up
Break it up

Monday, 17 November 2014

Irksome I: A Review

Breakfast was cold
It suited the cold stories
I came for poetry

My mistake
This was more like
A chilled
Thriller writers exposé

Dan and Ruth led off
Pouring scorn
On our lack of knowing -
The pictures all hung square

Most people had been last year
I won’t be back; the breakfast was old
& it suited their over told stories

Sunday, 16 November 2014


Harvest time; first we piled the bales high
On the trailer, carted them from field to barn

Sons of farmers and village urchins we became architects
Future participants perhaps for Kevin’s Grand Designs

The main space was deep inside the piled bales
The entrances, and exits, had twists and turns

Part to keep people from knowing of our secret den
Part, as Jenny says ‘to secretly discover our sexual selves

As the winter wore on, and the cattle needed feeding
Our den was dismantled; bale by bale, day by day

First the entrance, then the exit, then the small
Cavern, which had been immense, with boys laughter

Saturday, 15 November 2014

Between Form

That was the essence
Once again I had left

There again the subrogation
Once again I was longing

Free and straight
Hide bound by geometry
Once again I chose divergence

Only mist between us
Once again, free of emergence

Friday, 14 November 2014

Power Station

There was hardly any differentiation, between the mist of nature, and the mist created by the warm droplets of the cooling towers

We had left the wharf in Lincoln, good and early, to glide along the canal with the sunrise at our back

I had longed to belong to the water, and here I was on a long boat, a narrow boat, crawling through edgelands countryside, moving freely, yet seemingly always in a straight line

You can still taste the coal; not so much as in the old days, not since the power stations cleaned up their environmental act, but, with a big gulp of breath you can taste the damp black, the sulphur is still there to be chewed upon

Any good mathematician would be able to tell you that the cooling tower walls are parabolas, or another fancy word that I haven’t used since geometry classes at PGS

Any poet would be able to tell you that they are metaphors, for beauty & isolation; and that love always dies, and one day they too will die

Thursday, 13 November 2014

The Love And Death Of Poetry

I love my toes
With the diabetes
Heaven knows

Those long ball throws
All began
In the spring of toes

I love my fingers
Words written
So as not to ring her

Soft touch that brings 
Her nearer now
To my loaded Dillinger

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

Flip Aside

I don’t know myself
Although I do know
That I easily get annoyed
And that often I smile

One night in drizzle
A long way from any home
I waited for a late night bus
In a happy state of mind

One day in sunlight
Sat out on the back step
I waited, not knowing for what
In my beleaguered muddle

I don’t know myself
Although I do know
That often I smile, and
That I easily get annoyed

Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Back A Life

Zodiac signs from distant times
Did you too once believe in love
On the late night bus
To the party in the field

Then along came the moment
When you felt you almost
Remembered those moments

Monday, 10 November 2014

Small Joys

Bright lights
In the morning mist
Fence-top & hedgerow
With the lightest dewdrop
Each sous ever so slightly kissed

Resist the fall to maudlin
As if old times pasts are past
Psyche & aura
Become the brightest crop
Vous de vous - to the very last

Distant piano keys
Tap out the sounds of Liszt
Love’s near; autumn days
Decline to faintness, fail to hope
All of all we are the ones left to cope

Sunday, 9 November 2014

Hollow Winds

Far apart
Hills, valleys
Epochs of understatement

Sat, stood
Eyes over water
Eyes lifted, up to sky

Stillness & vast frustrations
To have loved
To have lost

Back, to the dammed upstream
Start over
Listen to the rows and arguments

Far apart
Older generations
Impatient with their lust

Saturday, 8 November 2014


Is it such a bad thing
In such a long run
To pick out one bad thing
After another

So easy to lose touch
Mostly fragile
Much too shy to say
Let bygones be

The pen now a crutch
For the clutch of sparrow-hawks
That chalk the inner walk
In place of open talk

The one bad thing
That led to another
Doubts intrinsically rose
One hope is to rediscover

Friday, 7 November 2014

Come Back

Only if it could be said
If I could speak
With a clearer voice

I had a choice, always
But almost always
I was highly excitable

Thursday, 6 November 2014

Best Rest Yet

As if the resonance
Sounds that say
The blood is still filtered

The heart pumps to the brain
& tonight, all that is not forgotten
Can be laid to rest

As if some force or test
Surrounds our rights of way
That why with which we play

Those so dear to us, no fear
Even nearer
Doubt not, we did our best

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

That Time

Draw down the night
In a room of mirrors
Paintings, furniture & lights

Let the lack of sight
Allow freedoms to wander
Free the mind to write

Of all the noises hereabout
Sounds drawn-down, quite
As if the inner world doth shout

Tuesday, 4 November 2014


Why then call it weakness
If it is almost universal
Where was the fork
The road it seems
Is anything but less travelled

Before the bile
Is liberated
Before sick and sour
Soliloquy's take over

Why not call it joyful
Joyful and universal
The fork of joy
Where both roads
Became well travelled

Monday, 3 November 2014

At Least A Billion... & One

Towards the sleep
Who knows of who you are sleeping
Not a peep
From those of you who love peeping

I take the giants leap
To the sleepers on the rail track
Learn to earn my keep
With the grim reaper at my back

Towards the sleep
Who knows what secrets you are keeping
Not too steep
For the first fleet-of-foot past weeping

I take the minnows creep
To the quieter, darker corner
Learn to slowly fall in deep
Become as the candlelit mourner

Saturday, 1 November 2014


Grey and silver sky
Effervescent pink
Beyond the clouds

A body of people
Where one person reads
Of a body of people

Imagine; to say goodbye, in your
Mind; as if no more
Than to place leaves on a bare tree

To think again, dwell on those two
In conversation; almost our friends
The ones we never really knew