AWOL Until

Beneath my window there is laughter, joyous conversation, but I am not among it; of course I could, as if on an Easter morning, lift the sash, poke out my head; but I don’t.

There is a leftover glass of wine, in the room next to the breakfast table, most probably from an evening gathering; I did not attend, but stayed in my room, above the interaction.

There are books in which to write, also books for the reading of; I have partaken of both, tasted the elixir if you will, but I won’t remember, once I have returned home, unless…

Sunlight falls on the variegated leaves, as chocolate fills my imagination; tonight I will be here, probably speaking out loud; however, tomorrow I will be making fresh tracks.

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Towards Quietness

The perspiration sits with me
A short hike through the woods
A nature trail, beside the Colden Water
After walking along
An immense man-made path
Presumably for the workers
To make their way to the mills

What I hear now
From the peace of Lumb Bank
Is a scrambler bike, its rider
Possibly risking life and limb
Riding through the trees, over
The rocks, just as Arthur Lampkin
I never did take such a risk

Hornets in the sweet-williams
Mesh of fennel in sunlight
Butterfly inspects my wrist
Soon it will be mid-September
When we will be in Ibiza
Climbing the stone steps
Up to the castle and the cathedral

But before that I have to tell you
That I know so much more now
Yet I also know so much less
Take that mountaineer poet
Who goes to places where I never will
Or that quiet gentleman
Whose prayer poems I cannot equal

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Work, And Plenty Of It

I walk this path
As you might have walked a similar path
With a lighted candle, or not
I note the huge size of the stone slabs
And how they have been worn by footfall
The pathway must have been essential
In providing a route for the workers

For the mill owners to have expended so
How much a fortune in prospect
But how many lives lost in the making
How many lives broken in the walking
Did they ever stop
To sit on this vast plate of rock
To listen to the river burbling

Did they ever look at the light in the trees
With a sense of wonder
Did they smell that countryside smell
The excrement of cows and sheep
Did they touch the bark, or the moss
Or, back then, had the moss not gathered
On Rolling Stones, or vice-versa

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Water, Davidoff’s Cool Water

The huge, flat, rocks of the riverbed
Are soiled, as if by the liqueurs of tar-macadam
Actually the rocks are more like tectonic plates
Though to be truthful I have not seen any of those

This place is towards the heads of the valley
A small man-made dam of brackish water
Perhaps a spot for children to play
If ever they could blooming well get here

It is on, or right beside
The Pennine Way, so maybe
It is a stop-off point; for serious walkers
With tents, campfires, real ale, and wild swimming

For me it is a place a good distance away
Away from what you might ask
Well, what would Robert Frost say
Or Ted Hughes, or Virginia Wolf

But I won’t on this occasion use their words
For they might not get it right
Because only I really know how I am feeling
Though, as yet, I don’t have the tools to tell you

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

At Last, It’s Time To Gasp

I walk up the hill
A different hill
With a different camera

I am not at the monastery
Though I am with
Equally devoted patrons and followers

The track is narrow, rugged
One boot print footfalls
On top of someone others

My footwear squeaks to me
I turn around
Looking, listening for a conversation

There is no five-bar gate here
On which to place the camera bag
On which to leave the camera bag

I do though sit on the style
If I had a Silk Cut (Low Tar) cigarette
I would smoke it now, in homage to one memory

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Horticulture, Me, No

Whatever the plant is
I feel it must have a purpose
Perhaps to flavour the soup
Or to keep evil spirits at bay

It is not a Bay
For we have one of those in our garden
The leaves we use in curries
And other culinary delights

I take a photograph
Knowing the description will be inadequate
However, in the framing of the image
I am more drawn to the layered cloud sky

Which I am also pretty certain
Will have an encyclopaedic name
Which will make no mention
Of its effect on me this morning

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

In Memory Of Fred Dibnar

The noise follows me around
Or I go in search of it
Then I see a photograph
Of Andrew Miller in a raincoat
He reminds me of a football manager
But I guess he is a writer

I move seats
To look onto the small patch of flowers
The names of which I do not know
Neither can I accurately describe their colours
I can though hear the river
And the partridges calling out

I take six steps
Across the grass
To the cast iron fence (waist high)
I peer over
Down the steep-sided valley
To the right, an old mill chimney, with scaffolding

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Gilded Splinters

Warm behind my eyes
Warm in my heart
Water droplets
On the inside of the window
Condensation
Drawn out of my study bedroom
Taken also from my bodies heat
Turned into the image of
Joy Division’s album cover
Unknown Pleasures
Outside
The frustrated Russian Vines
Or Clematis
Or Virginia Creepers
Cling to this third-floor glass
In some misjudged, misaligned hope
That in this the driest of summers
They may reach the staff of life
Which my room and I have gifted
Though actually they have sealed it off completely

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Altogether Unsuited

Be mindful
Probe step by step
Build a structure
Keep back the incendiary devices

Talk quietly about risk
Use that fucking-word poetics
For what purpose
Why to stand aside

In that place I didn’t intend to be
Where immaturity, indifference
And need
All catch me out

Do not be afraid to step outside
Go to that quieter place
Find another way
To receive advice

Write about your mother
Or a lover
Or anyone else you totally know
Or at least might have truly known

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Fleet Of Foot

The sun has slow returned
Also the still, with stillness
At the apex of the tree

Such light, so still
That it highlights one tree
Ahead of the bank of forestation

Is the new dress
Still then favoured
Will it do for the wedding

Are the shoes though
Still to be chosen
Comfortable for the all day

The horizon takes all in
The one still cloud
Is slow to drift

In the jungles isn’t there a word
For that place
Where sky and forest meet

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Fit For Purpose

I did walk to the Post Office
Where I bumped into a Magnum Special
That is an ice cream, Clint
Just in case you wondered

On the way
I saw the weaver’s cottages
All high windows
Facing towards the sun’s light

Chapels of light
Humanities of light
Mechanisations of light
Fabrics of light

The chocolate coating
Is also a layered process
Not that you know how, Christopher
Unless of course you choose to go there

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Counties, Country Sets

This is a Yorkshire wind
Not a Lincolnshire breeze
These are dry stone walls
Not places to seize

The obelisk and the windmills
Some are straight
Some do turn

The five-bar gate you could expect
But not the parking ticket
On the barbed wire fence

Ahead of me
Behind of me
Yes, sideways of me too

Beneath of me
Above of me
Yes, this me; with my lateral thinking here anew

I was of a similar place
Not though on the flatlands lease
I had laid by those dry stone walls
As if for someone to please

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Step, Sit, Sideways Does It

On my way to the Post Office
But first I must stop off
(Although I have hardly started)
To sit on this magnificent seat

With a view, straight down
Between the house and the old barn
Across the steep side valley
To the woodland bank and horizon

All that hang across the buildings
Are power cables
Telephone lines
Wires for the crawling clematis

Inside the house
Lunch is nearing completion
I was in the first group of poets
We finished early, our tutor was hungry

Blue skies have returned
Yet it is almost September
Soon the classes will be over
Until the following, until the coming years

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon

Aloof Alone

I hear the laughter
I watch the cobwebs
Wave mysteriously about
In this nighttime’s breeze

I know there are people
Happy in conversation
I watch the one mad moth
Captivated by the light

My life wasn’t always so small
But no, I was never
What you might call gregarious
But I did have some human contact

Pray do not rob me of that again
As also says
The mad moth
To the minuscule flea

There are other stories
I hold one such tale
One such tome of confiscation
Held here, in my hands

It escaped from a poem
To be turned
Into
I know not what

Happenstance in Heptonstall

Poems Started at Lumb Bank

Arvon 2018

Available from Amazon