Wednesday, 30 September 2015

Move In

If you find someone
To hold you the door
If in that dream
You enter with ease

The warmth with you
Among elongated notes
Within beauty’s droves

If you were touched
Soft with excitement
If the silence waits
Long after the kiss


Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Southern Belle

Wave after wave
Lap, splash, roar, crash
Yes the blue sea
Clear for the first time

Also the dance halls
Skin tight jeans
Where previous the waltz
Had been true-loves token

Cloud after cloud
Drift, layer, blow, bound
Yes the blue sky
Seen through another's line


Monday, 28 September 2015


In the hollows of the wind
Half quiet of night
Immersed in nature

A jubilant hermits book
Good time before sleep
Reverberations of secret worlds

Hold on; remember skin
The half smiles of love
So desperate to share

Sunday, 27 September 2015

World Music

Fine points, in sharp shadows
Ambient sounds of discretion
Any other room; past times
Always to find
Another room

Clear as light, and dark
Famously white & blue (turquoise)

Some part of a touchstone
As emerald or jade

Sharp contrast to the Jet
To the full coloured beach huts
On the long curve
Of a new found


Saturday, 26 September 2015

Ambient Love Words

Say I love you
Yes I love you
Say you love me
Yes I love you

Say so, say so
I love you
I love you

Say so
Say so
Say so I love you
Say so I love you

I love you, so say so
I love you, so say so

Say I love you
Say I love you

Say so
Say so
Say so say
Say so say

Say so I love you
Say so I love you
I love you
I love you

I love you
I love you
I say
I say

Say so
Say so
Say so I love you
I love you

Friday, 25 September 2015


Taken Down
Moving out, sideways
On sleigh paths
To landing strips

Would you be there
If I were to ask you

Taken out
Moving down, sideways
With winters sun
Out to frozen sea

If I were, to ask you
Would you be there

Thursday, 24 September 2015

Kings Head

Edge of danger
You, quite excited
To place me
Outside my comfort zone

Alcohol and modish music
Rough diamonds
Minders and molls

Edge into danger
You, pushy
Pushing me
Into the middle of their pack

Rock and roll & sweet soul music
Crazed and crazy minds
Life here has taken its toll

Wednesday, 23 September 2015


Before the crescendo
Before the nightlight-doused
Songs and stories of sailors
Notes of notes, for notes

Patterns of preoccupations
Ploughed fields and the like
A desire to become foolish
Once more to act the clown

Only in defence of course
Neither guile nor indifference
To carry it off for real
Unsure enough for all that

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

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

Monday, 21 September 2015

Not Apart

Because of you I write
Heavens above I know
Warmth of your love
See, I smile, I glow

Words send their own fear
You give me space to show
Frightened again to throw
See, if in doubt I disappear

After another separated night
Both alone, alone as the crow
Say always to keep in touch
With love, one unto two bestow


Sunday, 20 September 2015

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

Saturday, 19 September 2015

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

Friday, 18 September 2015

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

Thursday, 17 September 2015


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


Wednesday, 16 September 2015

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

Tuesday, 15 September 2015


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

Monday, 14 September 2015

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 edge-lands 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

Sunday, 13 September 2015

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 

Saturday, 12 September 2015

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

Friday, 11 September 2015


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


Thursday, 10 September 2015

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

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

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


Tuesday, 8 September 2015

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


Monday, 7 September 2015

At Least A Billion... & One

Towards the sleep
Who knows who of 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, dust and darker corner
Learn to slowly fall in deep
Become at one with the candlelit mourner


Sunday, 6 September 2015


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


Saturday, 5 September 2015

Friday, 4 September 2015


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

Thursday, 3 September 2015


What do I find attractive
The confident, or the confidante

A body that flows and moves with grace
Or a persona with stillness
An aura that looks down at my shoes
Then twirls its hand to say ‘futurissimo

The Americans now seem to have less style
Perhaps because their wealth is on the wane

Black though holds its ground; the fat made to look thinner
Awkwardness turns itself into a statement 
& to be full on jet, over a red velvet cloak with fine denier mesh
Sure creates a resounding and definitive presence

Wednesday, 2 September 2015


She drapes her arms
Over his shoulders
They both wear trainers
& turn around in sync
At the far end
Of the hall of sculptures

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Curved Ball

This is more my place than yours
Whoever you are
Wherever you might have been

The seat at my side is empty
The entire bench holds
Not one more body

Out on the floor
The living intermingle
Between Woman, Man & Child

In the foreground
Two girls talk of diaries
Laughter; a third girl joins them

Their conversation turns
To places that are amazing
Behind them a Rodin & a Giacometti