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Friday 31 December 2021

Begin

In the first hours
Of rising
Words for no one
But myself

In those first moments of the day
With tea to drink, on my own
In the beginning of the new day
Sat solitary, in my morning meditation

After which
To prepare for the community of writers
To take tea upstairs to my lover
To bathe in a bath, prepared by one and the same

Then to hold onto the goodness
To find faith in those faithful friendships
To become that uniquely alive persona
Who is grateful for the love of love


Thursday 30 December 2021

Support

This is my prayer
A simple silent gift
Both for myself
As also to share, with those who wish to share

It is a non-religious prayer
Because, whilst I am a man of faith
I am not a man of religion
I have no touchstone to god, except my god within

The sky is of many greys
Rolled into clouds, calmly overlapping
The trees are of many, many greens
From the foreground, to the backdrop merging

I pray that these various colours can be seen
That with the differentiation
We can engage, admire, love
Love the complexity of all our visions

The complication of prayer
Comes with the easements, with the corners
Of the wooden barns, of Walt Whitman’s way
Places, where I have never felt truly able to go


Wednesday 29 December 2021

Directions

I will not go to where I have already been
Neither to where I know I am not going
I will find a different place in which to breathe
A screen of washing lines, flapping, blowing

Where unbuttoned blouses catch the breeze
Their scents gifted to the atmosphere
I will undo, down on my knees
Those zips to where we all do disappear

I will not wait for those who have not waited
Swing open the four-leaf clover cottage gate
Walk out past all those types who hesitate
In search of that, once romantic, vanquished state

No roads, or tracks, or country lanes
No turning back towards the evergreens
Take firmer steps to see the whooping cranes
Believe in life which, as if forever, unsteadily leans

Tuesday 28 December 2021

Setting Up, Setting Out

The audition is passed
As the breeze turns into a wind
This summer is not yet to its last
All sinned thoughts are to be rescinded

To sit among tree and varnished wood
With cobwebs and drainpipe looking on
I thought to buy, thought yes I should
Here to write, to put right all that’s gone wrong

Saturday morning
Yes, freedom is here once more
Sat, at this delightful diminutive desk
Views over Trinity

Then on to those faraway
Imagined sand-strip shores
Angels will be seen riding
Along the big skies next

A new pencil will be procured
To satisfy the writer’s perceived significance
Though truly the need for that is next to naught
Other than anything smoother, will aid the dance



Monday 27 December 2021

First Time Ever I saw

Nearest is the blossom tree
A few cherry-red leaves
Among the swathes of green

They dance, as if ballet dancers
Encouraged by the breeze
They move with a lover’s sense of joy

At least that is my perception
After reading Mr Palomar
Before Carol Anne Duffy’s Rapture

Sensuous, sensual, sexual, sensational
Curves, movement of wild abandon
A soft-skin smile of surface texture

As if the arm, as if the calf, as if the thigh
No one will ever know; why, or how
As the whispers quieten in stillness

The taller branches
Sway so so willingly behind
It is their courteous, yet dominant serenade



Sunday 26 December 2021

New

A new place in which to write
A fresh notebook, you guessed
Through the window is a morning light
Which falls on my recently purchased desk

The writing surface withdraws
Leaded-light shadows pattern the walls
Diamonds are what I see, what I saw
For it is above the apple tree where I sit so tall

This is to be another writing place
I hope for quite some while
To be decorated in good taste
For the eventual rapturous writing style

I look down onto racks of shoes
Through the wrought-iron bannister
There are no greys, or blues
Also the handrail is faded from its lustre




Saturday 25 December 2021

Aftermath

It is twenty-eight days since I began
All of it at home
Yet, virtually
A good bit of it away

Perhaps I did find more
By staying in my own place
Whilst visiting
Those other fine places

Keeping my distance
Oddly I now feel closer
More of an attachment
To Lavender Barn

Also to Houghton Hall
To the Cholmondeley’s
Home for sculpture, with
James Turell’s Lightscape

We have received news
From our charismatic leader
On the next phase
Of social distancing, together yet apart

There is peace
There is quiet
There is sunshine
There are orderly queues at the DIY store

Let us all hope
That this societal caring
May continue, who knows, maybe
We may grow to love each other more


Friday 24 December 2021

Norfolk Quartet (4)

In abstensis
I am to leave you
Drive home
Record my movements
Recollect my thoughts
Upload my images
Then to pause, virtually
By the desk
By the computer
By the fullness of past times


Thursday 23 December 2021

Norfolk Quartet (3)

Light before dawn
Light beyond dusk
Light for the silence
Temptations of musk
Light for the noise
Light for the entropy
Light for the continuum
Temptations of rum
Light for the garden
Light for the house


Wednesday 22 December 2021

Norfolk Quartet (2)

Quietly, on open marsh
Listen closely
So so easy simply to be
Salt laden air
Enters the nostrils
Oh such memories of joy
Settled, free and easy
Alone, yet not lonely
Waiting for nothing
Except knowing full well


Tuesday 21 December 2021

Norfolk Quartet (1)

In abstensis
I came to see you
To walk on your shorelines
To stroll through your Fenlands
To visit your country houses
To place myself
Among your grand estates
I was nourished, virtually
By the seas, by the winds
By the emptiness

 

Monday 20 December 2021

Diffusion

We all pass this way just the once
Some take on knowledge
Some make confounding statements
But we all pass this way just the once

The fortunate may find fair weather
Enjoy a fortuitous, easy life
Others might continuously struggle
But we all pass this way just the once

There are days when the sandbanks are flooded
There are days when men take sleighs on ice
Then, for the fishermen, the salmon come home
But we all pass this way just the once

Some chap studied to become a solicitor
Some chap stepped into the shoes of Rome
Then the lucky one, dressed in silk, with a silver spoon
But we all pass this way just the once


Sunday 19 December 2021

Infusion

Emptiness
Openness
Freedom
Calm

Space above
Space below
Space
Everywhere around me

A grain of sand indeed
Then another
And another
And another

A continuum
To infinity, where
Eternity will be yours
Within the coming hours


Saturday 18 December 2021

Intrusions

Today I am joining
The Norfolk Coast Path
At the Tower Windmill

I am heading for
Scolt Head Island
National Nature Reserve

Then onwards, on foot
To Brancaster Beach
Where, on another day

I might have played
A round of golf
At Royal West Norfolk GC


Friday 17 December 2021

Peaceful Conceptions

And so I turn
To the Cistercian Monks of Stift Heiligen
I listen to their chant - Music for Paradise

I put on my coat
The sunlight
No longer gifts its warmth

That is how the days and nights are

Light, dark, light
Warm, cold, warm
Action, stillness, action

And so I dwell
In Paradisium
Giving thanks to its anonymous scribe

I breathe in
I breathe out
The time asks for my preparation

That is how the time of time is


Thursday 16 December 2021

Challenge

Doubt, who coined the word doubt
Apparently it is from circa 1200
And we have the French to thank

But what about what precedes this doubt
What about that arbiter of faith
What does the Bible say on doubt

This from James 1:5-8
For the one who doubts is like
A wave of the sea that is driven
And tossed by the wind
He is a double-minded man
Unstable in all his ways

Is that who I am
When I question this Lavender Barn retreat
Doubtful of my ability to find more

Or to go further into myself
With some vague idea
That even more freedom lies there


Wednesday 15 December 2021

Not To Oversell

I think to pare back the day
To edge towards minimalism
Rather than the exuberance
Of what today has brought me

Did I search the right places
Did I forage in the best fields
Is it more than good fortune
Or a response to sound purpose

I have been fed rather well
In body, mind and spirit
I have tasted sweet and sour
And will do so, again and again


Tuesday 14 December 2021

Preparation Time

Tonight is meditation by zoom
I am not really prepared
But in a way that’s ok
Because my fellow meditators
Will be fascinated
By the Norfolk cottage
Or Lavender Barn
To give it its official name
Also they will want to know
Exactly what I have been up to

Nevertheless, as I listen
To the Astounding Eyes of Rita
I think it’s time to make a start
First to turn the words into PDF’s
Then to choose the guided meditations
And put them on a playlist
Finally, to choose the audio tracks
For our meditations to music

Done
How good it feels
To accomplish something
Anything...


Monday 13 December 2021

Self-Reflections

Two hours of playing with video
Does anyone
Like the sight of their own face
Or the sound of their own voice
Do we not all cringe
At the words we wrote
Or the scenes which we imagined

Is it overconfidence
In our ability
Or our proficiency
Have we seen professionals
And thought, oh yes
That looks easy enough
I should be able to do that

Of course timing, timing is everything isn’t it
Knowing when to pause
Where to take a breath
Or when to smile
And turn towards the camera
Although to do that I would have to learn my lines
And memory is not my strong point is it, no it is not


Sunday 12 December 2021

Burnside

I didn’t know you as a non-believer
I don’t really know you as a poet
Yet of late I have empathised
With your words, and their layout

Indeed I took your Desserts
To our Friday Morning Poet’s Salon
Where the craquelure
Was inquisitively peeled back


Saturday 11 December 2021

Pointers

I take tea
With lemon drizzle cake
In the stables cafe

The crockery is exemplary
White and blue
Always a favoured pairing

Fresh flowers on the table
A nice touch
Why not do it more at home

I will buy a vase
For sure there will be a gift shop
Though alas, there were no vases


Friday 10 December 2021

Frame

Place and time
Time and place
Shade and light
Light and shade

Remember the experience
Store away the details
Give sufficient weight
To the ambiances

Of your surroundings
Of your heart
Of your mind
Of your temple in the sky

Be taken by the muse
Be offered up
To the lines of freedom
To the limitations of lovers

Tell them, that you have been there
Say that you were not alone
Yet you cannot say who you met there
For truly, they will never, ever know


Thursday 9 December 2021

Place And Time

Thankfully it is not a long walk

To Richard Long’s A Line in Norfolk

Indeed it is right outside the front door


I stride out the eighty or so metres

Of Norfolk Carrstone, whose orange clay

Contrasts markedly with Mr Cholmondeley’s


Sparkling green, well-manicured lawn

I wonder if the turf might in fact be laid

On a foundation of such well-weighted stone


Eventually I call this sculpture Number One

And think this is how a drone camera

Might picture it from the sky


After striding its length I meander

To all four corners, to gain some distance

To see another light, to gather another perspective


I remember Richard’s grey slate stones

Laid out onto the top floor of a city centre gallery

And cannot help but think; this is a much better place


Further along I see Full Moon Circle

It is made of a similar material to the one I saw in Leeds

Which I now think rather suited its cosmopolitan surroundings



Wednesday 8 December 2021

Cast In

Stephen Cox’s Interior Space

Does not do it for me

Which is odd, for he has

That ability, that experience

To transport me around the world

But, at this moment in time

Egypt is not where

I would choose to be


Of course, to peer into the darkness

To find myself within the solid mass

In the perusal of nothingness

Well, yes that does enchant

And calms, and if I stayed long enough

I may feel more

I may grow into the recognition

I may even come on board



Tuesday 7 December 2021

Favoured Words

I am left with the remnants

Of James Turrel’s Lightscape exhibition


But fortunately I am led

To a Youtube conversation

Between the lucid artist

And his enquiring patron for the season


They talk of going inside self

With your meditation

(Right up my street)


Light is not formed

Like clay, or wax

Nor sculpted like wood or stone

(Did I tell you I was an Electrical Engineer

Who specialised in lighting)


The rules are different

Paint and light

Do not merge in the same ways

Their resulting colours

Are not in anyway the same

(No, I did not know that)


Using light to create spaces

100 sky spaces are created

Across all the continents

We are made for twilight

Not the bright light of midday

(Really)


Just as in the way that Rothko

Has colour coming out of darkness

Twilight arrives before sunrise

Twilight arrives after sunset

(I always liked Rothko)


The love of how change happens

You, on your island

Have a maritime sky

The softness of which

Is truly beautiful

(I so so agree with his every word)


 

Monday 6 December 2021

Believe It Or Not

I am more at home
With Richard Long’s
White Deer Circle
Which fronts an expanse
Of grass, bordered by oaks
Of many years standing

This is an emblem
Of one man’s idea
Fashioned against
Another man’s idea
Several generations apart
Or so one is led to believe
On first impressions

The huge, upturned
Rooted tree stumps
Are placed, more or less
Where the village of Houghton
Once stood, that is until
Sir Robert Walpole
Had it moved a little further away
From his imposing Palladian mansion

Apparently
Or so others say
It is an uncanny echo
Of Seahenge, discovered
On a nearby beach in 1998
However, today’s artist
Professes to have no such
Knowledge, so puts it down
To sheer coincidence


Sunday 5 December 2021

Work it Out

I am in a small garden
Looking at Jeppe Hein’s
Waterflame
It is surreal
Almost beyond comprehension

Water and flame at one together
Maybe the artist
Was a chemist, or a physicist
Or a close relation
Of Guy Fawkes

Described elsewhere as:
Opposing elements co-existing
To create a paradoxical
Visual effect in an
Illusion of cooperative relationship

I too was taken
But think that I partially
Understand
The slights of hand
Of both of these magician’s tricks


Saturday 4 December 2021

Just Do It

I have had an idea
For when I return home
I have named it
Wednesday Afternoon Being Creative

It’s a sort of going back
But also a fast forwards
Yes it is to stimulate the creation of poetry
But also, art and photography, etcetera, etcetera

To try to pull together
A few of the creative types
From roundabouts and hereabouts
Who can encourage others to be creative

I don’t expect Anish Kapoor
Or James Turrell or Richard Long
Or any of those other major artists
Whose work can be seen at Houghton Hall

But maybe the local musicians
And poets and painters
And trekkers and photographers
Will come along to tell a tale

We too may think of specific spaces
Where our art may be displayed
Although of course that must wait
Until we are freed from lockdown


 

Friday 3 December 2021

Name On Name

Today I intend to go
To Houghton Hall
The home of
The Cholmondeley's

Oh how I love that name
But first for breakfast
Bacon, two fried eggs
Toast and beans

Yes, how much better than being
The Fourth Earl of Nidderdale
To be the Buckminster Fuller
Of Cholmondeley

MOD Sculthorpe
And RAF Sculthorpe
Are both nearby
Perhaps once strategic bases

Yes, landing sites
For Sandringham Estate
Or for the first Prime Minister
Of Great Britain

But first for breakfast
Bacon, two fried eggs
Toast and beans
Should be fine

The Cholmondeley’s
Have had a presence
At Houghton Hall
Since the first Marquess

Inherited the place
In the 18th century
I make that to be
Quite a good while ago

Lord Cholmondeley
Was educated at Eton
And studied
At the Sorbonne, lucky lad

But first for breakfast
Bacon, two fried eggs
Toast and beans
Should be fine

Now he is married
To Rose Hanbury
They have two boys
And a daughter named Iris

But first for breakfast
Bacon, two fried eggs
Toast and beans
Should be fine

For a day which
Will mostly be spent
Out of doors
In the Cholmondeley’s garden


 

Thursday 2 December 2021

Dust On Dust

Where did religion go wrong
My grandma, of the Methodist Chapel
Fervently sang each and every song

I had no doubts as a young man
That I would marry in church
It was, as they say, already in the can

Yet I did show a certain lack of respect
A couple of drinks before the service
Which any self-aware vicar would detect

It is true my children went to Sunday school
And both were duly christened
As if ordained by some ancient familial rule

My daughter followed a similar pathway
Married in church (after a period of forced attendance)
Her children christened, on a parish christening day

Yet neither I nor my children regularly attend
In fact in my case hardly ever
Except the Christmas Mass, on which we all do depend

But this is ceremony, not belief
This is the absence of practice
From which we have taken our relief

The song books and the prayer books
Are left bereft and unused, laid
In the cases, in the nannies and the crooks

These buildings once so filled with buoyant life
Have let themselves be emptied
Foraging instead the paths of argument and strife


Wednesday 1 December 2021

Fame

Fifteen minutes later
I pull into the Sandringham Estate car park
Already I know that this is my kind of place
I will take lunch in their cafe restaurant

But first to let the gardens overwhelm me
Down, through the avenue of limes, to the Buddha
Then a stroll, by the dark brown waters
Which hereabouts they choose to call lakes

I have the Whitby breaded whole-tail scampi
With a bottle of beer-shandy
Due to my latest diet I don’t do dessert
Though I am calling in at EH Prior & Sons, later

But no rush, not for now, it is a time to dwell, to look around
Find a quiet bench, or a seat under a pergola 
Actually I stumble upon St Mary Magdalene Church
Which is bound to do something for me

Dust behind the door
Dust on the beams and lintels
A real sniff of the worship of royalty
Outside the headstones are arranged in rows

Back inside, I do take a few moments
Sit on a pew beneath a stained glass window
Look forwards to the altar, my view
Obscured, by tourists just like me

It is not a big place, but does look cared for
As it ought to be, if our princesses
Are to be christened here, as was
The nation’s favourite, the late Princess Diana